


Save the Raider, Save your Soul

by ACrocodile



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Sole Survivor, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Consent Issues, Drug Withdrawal, Eventual Smut, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Medical Procedures, Minor Character Death, Slavery, Slow Burn, Smut, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28600470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACrocodile/pseuds/ACrocodile
Summary: Raiders and vault dwellers don’t mix, that’s a basic fact of wasteland life.Roland is a man woken from a 200 year cryo nap to find the world and everything he cared about in it torn to shreds, still trying to cling to ideas of kindness and decency that went up in an atom cloud.Skeev’s a raider who’s about to have his life turned upside down.The basic facts of wasteland life are about to be put to the test.A slow burn romance that goes to some pretty dark places (because raiders). Mostly follows canonical in game events.
Relationships: Male Sole Survivor/Male Raider, Male Sole Survivor/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 29





	1. Boom Bouquet

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning- Bloody violence, injury detail, swearing. 
> 
> This is my first work here so please bear with me as I may make minor alterations to this and following chapters to adjust format.  
> Content warnings given at the start of each chapter.

When the first shots rang out, he didn’t think much of it. Just another day in the Commonwealth. It was close, but that didn’t worry him initially. Could be some of the others shooting off at the local wildlife or ferals, maybe just blasting some old bottles to bits for shits and giggles. 

It was when the screaming started that he actually started to take real notice. He was sitting by the fire in the entrance of the old Mass Pike tunnel, grilling some meat of dubious origin for breakfast. Next to him, Roach roused from his drugged up stupor and pulled his pistol from his belt, heading out to see what was going on. “Sounds like fun time. You comin’ or what Skeev?” Roach called back over his shoulder.

“Yeah.” Skeev stood, tugging his gas mask back down over his face. He could make out some of the screams now, among the gunfire and occasional distinctive sound of laser fire. The rest of the gang of raiders were running from cover to cover while trying to shoot back at their attackers, shouting directions and taunts. Several were clearly already dead, sprawled across the ground in widening pools of their own blood. Shit.

“Two of ‘em, up there!” Roach called from beside him, aiming up at the shack up top of the tunnel walls. 

Skeev tucked himself against the wall at the mouth of the underpass tunnel, a bullet hitting the ground beside him far too close for comfort. Roach was a ways out in front, crouched down between the rusted remains of an old car and the makeshift wall of one of their shelters. This was bad. They’d been taken by surprise and not only did their attackers have the high ground, but they must have been well armed and decent shots. Gunners maybe?

Poking his head out, Skeev checked back to the spot Roach had been aiming at. He saw two figures moving quickly down the stairs that the gang had built up the side of the wall that led down to the main part of their base on the old road. It was hard to tell who they were from the distance and angle, but they didn’t seem to be dressed like Gunners. They made good use of what cover they could find while raining down bullets and laser fire. Whoever they were they had more skill than Skeev and the rest of the raiders, he felt sure. No way two guys could be doing this much damage to a whole gang without combat training. 

“Grenade!”

Skeev barely had time to register the warning before he caught sight of Roach desperately trying to scramble away from the small green explosive that had landed close by. The next few moments after that seemed to happen in slow motion, yet all at once. Where Roach had been there was now nothing but an explosion of light and gore. A boom tore through Skeev’s eardrums before everything descended into a constant ringing somewhere inside his skull, and he felt himself lifted from the ground and flung back into the tunnel entrance. ‘So’ He thought as the world went dark around him ‘I guess this is what death feels like...’

_______________________________________________________________________________________

“You’re really thorough, you know that?” A mans voice, slightly mocking

“Hey. It’s not like these guys need this stuff anymore and given that they tried to kill us, I think it’s the least they can do to resupply our stocks.” Another mans voice, quieter than the first.

It took Skeev a good few seconds to realise he wasn’t dead and that the voices he was hearing were in fact real. The next thing he became aware of was the pain - everywhere, consuming every inch of him. His body felt like it had been crushed, his ribs he felt sure must have been poking into his lungs because he couldn’t seem to get air into them. Panic hit him like a second blast wave and he clawed his hands up to his face, pulling at the gas mask. Managing to get it off he choked down as much air as his aching lungs would allow. 

Without the mask, he could see more clearly and he got his first good look at the two men who’d likely be responsible for ending him. The one furthest away was crouching over the body of a fallen raider and was busily rummaging through their pockets for anything of value. He wore a blue vault suit under leather armour. The other, closer, was bald with shades and seemed to be dressed like a caravan guard. A vaulty and a caravan guard really took down the whole crew? Damn.

Skeev’s movement in getting the gas mask off had made it somewhat easier to breathe initially, but now his desperate breaths had made the pressure in his chest worse and he couldn’t help but cough as he battled to keep his airway from closing up. This caught caravan guards attention.

“Hey, we got a live one over here.”

Vaulty looked up from the corpse. “Still armed?”

“Eh, doesn’t look like it. He’s pretty banged up. Get it? Because of the grenade going bang? Eh?” Sunglasses man laughed slightly at his own joke but dropped it pretty quick when vaulty stood and gave him an eye roll and a grunt. He made his way over towards where Skeev lay, 10mm pistol held casually in one hand.

“Think he’d live if we just left him?” 

“Maybe. At least long enough for the ferals to find him when the sun goes down. That would be...Yeah that would be a pretty shitty thing to do...but it’s your call.” Sunglasses man didn’t seem so cheerful now, his voice monotone and expression flat, paying more attention to the vaulty than to Skeev.

“Jeez Deacon, you really think I’m that much of an asshole?” Vaulty was already lifting the gun, flicking the safety off.

Sunglasses guy just shrugged in response and turned away.

Skeev’s gun was nowhere nearby. He probably still had his switchblade on him somewhere but even if that would have been any help at all against a gun, he was barely able to breath let alone move enough to defend himself. Still, he didn’t want to die. Even if it meant all the pain going away. Even if there was the slightest possibility that he’d end up in some afterlife that was marginally less shitty than the hell on Earth Commonwealth he called home.

“Wait, please!” He wheezed. His voice came out barely above a whisper but vaulty must have heard him because remarkably, he stopped, lowered the gun slightly and moved closer to Skeev. He clicked a button on his Pip-Boy and it lit up, letting vaulty get a better look at the injured raider.

“Please don’t kill me.” Skeev forced out the words, his vision starting to blur around the edges. Not like this. Not yet. He wasn’t ready.

Vaulty’s response almost sounded regretful. “I think it might be a bit too late for you to be asking me that...” His eyes cast over Skeev, taking in the blood, the damaged armour, the stilted and struggling way he was breathing. He was shifting slightly from one foot to the other, like he was uncomfortable.

“Please...” Skeev couldn’t finish the sentence. There didn’t seem to be enough air left in his lungs to make words. Or maybe he’d lost too much blood for his brain to still be able to make words. Probably both. All he could do was try to channel every ounce of will-to-live he had left into the look he gave the vaulty, meeting the other mans eyes.

There was no movement or sound from either man for a good few seconds.

Vaulty groaned, finally flicking the safety back into place on the 10mm and holstering it “...Well shit.” Pistol out of the way he opened up a pouch on the leg of his leather armour and withdrew a stimpack twice the size of the usual ones.

“No funny business, ok? I can still change my mind.” Vaulty waited for a response, though only got a weak nod from Skeev. He was barely conscious by this point. Seeming to find that enough, vaulty knelt beside the wounded raider and found the clips at the side of his chest piece, clicked them open and carefully removed the armour. Pushing up the thin cloth top underneath he examined the extent of the mans injuries there, then ran a hand down the side of Skeevs chest, pressing gently every so often. Pain flared with every touch but since he could do nothing about it, Skeev had to trust that the same vaulty who’d just murdered almost everyone he knew wasn’t just torturing him and actually meant to help him.

Seeming to find the spot he’d been looking for, vaulty withdrew some more items from various pouches in his armour. An empty syringe and some plastic tubing. 

“This is going to hurt. Probably a lot. If you feel like you’re going to pass out just go with it.” 

Vaulty lifted Skeevs right arm and stuck the empty syringe needle deep into the flesh of his chest there, just above a rib. Skeev was already in so much pain yet still felt the new injury. God Damn. Maybe he was just being tortured. Did the guy really only spare him a quick(ish) death to hurt him even worse? 

The needle was removed and the plastic tubing shoved into the wound instead. Skeev used the last of his strength to cry out in agony, though the sound that came from him was more of a hoarse gurgle. He was vaguely aware of vaulty finally sticking him in the chest with the big stimpack before he let the darkness take him.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

“Fixer, What exactly are you doing to that raider?” Deacon had turned back around when he hadn’t heard the gunshot he was expecting. Instead he saw Fixer on his knees beside the raider and heard the raider’s exclamations of pain.

“Saving his life. Or...trying to. Probably too late. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“...You are aware this is one of the guys that just tried to kill us? The guys you just dropped a boom bouquet on?” 

“Duh.”

“I think you might be missing the point here. You don’t actually have to try and fix Everything, ‘Fixer’.” 

Roland looked up at Deacon, his face a mask of barely hidden self-hatred . “He begged me not to kill him, Deacon.”

Deacon lowered his head slightly and looked down at the raider’s clearly now unconscious face over his shades. He looked young, but a lot of raiders were hardly more than teens. It didn’t stop them from being one of the worst examples of ‘humanity’ in the Commonwealth. Maybe Roland hadn’t been in the Wealth long enough to realise just how low humanity had sunk. Maybe he still clung to the idea that people could be saved from themselves. He’d known from early on Roland seemed to genuinely want to help people - he’d not be going out of his way for the Minutemen otherwise - but this was...something else. Maybe he was an even better person than Deacon pegged him for. He probably wouldn’t be going to this much effort and wasting resources if he was just pretending to impress Deacon. Mental note taken. Added to the list of reasons the Railroaded needed to keep this guy on board.

“Going to have to move him, get him proper medical care. If we can get him to Diamond City and...if he lives long enough to make it there, he might pull through. Can you grab his top half and I’ll take his legs?”

Oh joy. Heavy lifting. Deacon’s favourite thing. Especially when he was lifting half-dead potentially murderous raiders that his new acquaintance was too kind or too naive to finish off.

“Hey, you know how I rag you for making me carry all those desk fans? Yeah. This is worse. You can expect a strongly worded letter of complaint.” 

Roland chuckled slightly and lifted Skeevs legs. “Sure thing Deac. I’ll add it to the pile”.


	2. Operation TP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roland has concerns. Is he crazy? Does he have any idea what he’s doing? Does toilet paper still exist?

It was pure lucky chance that they’d come across a caravan heading to Diamond City. With some persuasion from Roland and the exchange of a couple hundred caps, the trader allowed Roland to load the injured raider onto the back of their pack brahmin. It was awkward trying to position the guy so he could lie somewhat flat on his back and not be at risk of falling off. Laying him on his front would have been easier but Roland doubted that his injured chest would take the pressure. Even so, it was going to be a bumpy ride and there was a strong possibility he’d die before reaching the not-so-great green jewel. Roland mentally kicked himself for cursing how much this was going to end up costing him. Saving a life was worth more than caps. Been spending too much time with Maccready, he thought with a slight smile.

The trudge to the city was uneventful, mostly with little in the way of conversation between anyone. The trader and her guards gave Roland and Deacon the occasional sideways glances but mostly ignored them.

“This is part of some plan of yours, right?” Deacon broke the silence. “A super secret plan with a really cool codename. Like, ‘Operation Toilet Paper.” 

Roland laughed and shook his head. “Ok, firstly, the secret plans are more your thing. And, ‘Operation Toilet Paper?’ The heck kinda codename is that?”

“Because you’re wiping up after the Commonwealths proverbial poop. Saving a raider? I mean, I dig the level of empathy that takes, but still. What do you plan to do when he wakes up, when he’s all healed up? Is this some new catch and release program nobody told me about?” Deacon sighed, wiping sweat off his forehead. He didn’t like travelling out in the open during the day at the best of times, and the midday sun wasn’t helping anything. 

Roland shrugged. “Figured I’d keep him. Like that pet molerat Wendy over at Ten Pines has got. I’m sure Dogmeat won’t mind the company for walkies.” 

“Oh Piper is going to love that.” Deacon smiled. “Imagine the headlines. General of the Minutemen adopts pet raider - says ‘adopt don’t shop’.”

Roland snorted another laugh and gave Deacon a gentle shove. “Yeah yeah. Honestly though I have no idea. I didn’t think that far ahead. Figured we’d get him back to Diamond City, get him stable and decide what we do about him then. Was Minuteman jail a thing? I guess Preston might know. Could radio Sanctuary and see if he has any ideas.” He sighed and scratched the back of his neck absent minded. He really didn’t have a plan. It was just that when he met that raider’s eyes as he lay there dying, he knew he couldn’t pull the trigger on him or leave him to a slow and painful demise. Almost certainly had the roles been reversed, Roland would be dead and the raider wouldn’t be giving him a second thought. Roland couldn’t abandon his old world values so easily.

Conflict back in his day had seemed so much simpler. The enemy were soldiers, just like him. Men and women who’d known what they were signing up for and accepted the consequences. Things didn’t seem so black and white anymore. Now the person trying to kill you might just be another desperate wastelander doing what they thought they had to to survive. 

On the back of the brahmin the raider stirred, starting to cough violently between mumbling incoherently. Roland caught the brahmin’s halter and brought it to a steady stop, checking the raider over and injecting another med-x to keep him unconscious, re-adjusting some soft items of luggage under his head so that it rested at the best possible angle to make breathing easier.  
One of the caravan guards gave him a rather dirty look and shook her head, but said nothing. So what if they all thought he was totally mad for doing this? It wasn’t like half the ‘Wealth didn’t already think he was insane. Pre-war vaulty defrosts 200 something years after the world goes boom, takes over a militia and makes no secret of his desire to face off with the Institute - biggest, baddest bogeyman in the Commonwealth. It did sound pretty crazy. Adding on to that ‘saving a random raider after murdering a whole bunch of other raiders’ didn’t seem so mad in that context. 

Diamond City security seemed as bemused as the caravan had when the group finally arrived there and unloaded the not-quite dead raider. Roland tried to convince them to help him and Deacon get the man to the clinic, but not even his smooth words or the promise of some caps managed that. They did, however, radio ahead to the clinic to expect an emergency case. There were more strange looks on the way through the city and more than a few complaints from Deacon about what carrying this guy was doing to his back. 

Arriving at the clinic they were met by the doctor, and between them they manoeuvred the new patient to the surgery room in the clinic basement. Deacon and Roland were hastily ushered back out once the injured man was secured to an operating table with an assurance that they’d be informed of the patients condition as soon as the doctor was done working on him.

“I’ll be over at the Dugout if you need me. I’m going to see if I can convince someone to give me a back rub. That should probably be your job, considering the new kink in my spine is your fault.” Deacon said, rubbing crusted blood from the raider off his hands onto his pant legs. 

“Deacon, you should know better than to tempt me with a good time.” Roland chided back, waving as Deacon laughed and slipped off into the crowded marketplace. It was a good thing Deacon got his particular brand of humour, or at least was a convincing enough liar about finding his nonsense funny. Half of their partnership was the ‘you put up with my flirting and bad jokes and I’ll put up with your lying’ deal the two had going.

Roland waited at the clinic for several hours before the doctor re-emerged from the basement. He looked somewhat surprised to find Roland there waiting. It probably was unusual these days for anyone to spend hours doing nothing while they just waited for news, Roland figured. He’d been considering heading straight to the dugout but for some stupid reason had felt too guilty to do that. Why should he get to enjoy a drink when someone was fighting for their life because of him? What if said person really didn’t deserve his help and he was unknowingly saving a monster that could run amok in Diamond City if he wasn’t here to stop him? Too many thoughts going round in his head and none of them very useful.

“What’s the prognosis doc?” Roland asked, standing to find that his legs had gone uncomfortably numb.

“Honestly I’m amazed you managed to get him here, given the severity of his injuries. It was touch and go, I had to perform multiple surgeries. But, he’s alive and provided we can keep him clear of infection, he should recover with time and rest.” 

“That’s great. You did restrain him, right, for when he wakes up?”

The doctor nodded. It was something Roland had suggested be done, warning that the man was a raider and might be violent upon waking. If the doc had had any objections to treating a raider, he hadn’t said anything.

“I really do appreciate this doc. What do I owe you?”

The doctor sighed. It was clear he was about to give a substantial figure and that he doubted he’d be paid it. “The surgeries alone would usually cost at least 2000 caps. With the medication and aftercare costs on top of that, it’s going to be double that. I can arrange a payment plan if...”

“No.” Roland interrupted, holding up a hand. “I can pay you. Here.” He searched through various pockets and pouches, eventually finding a small hide bag he kept his caps in. “There should be at least a little over half there. I can get the rest to you within the hour, if you don’t mind waiting.” 

It was hard not to note the look of surprise on the docs face as he was handed the bag. Usually, getting clients to pay the heftier fees was much more of a struggle. Even the upper stands residents could be assholes about it. “Thank you. That’s just fine. You take what time you need, we’re open till 5pm.”

Roland nodded. The fee didn’t seem so bad, given what he was used to before the war. Even with his military insurance, medical care was something he and Nora tried to avoid unless strictly necessary. Doctors were expensive in any era. Besides, even though his companions often made fun of him for it, the bundles of junk and extra items he always carried with him meant he always had something to sell when he needed extra caps.

“When will I be able to see him?” 

“You can visit once he’s stable and awake. I can’t keep him here long after that, I need the bed space.”

“Of course. Thanks again.”

A little over an hour later Roland returned to the clinic to settle his debt, the proceeds from the loot he’d pulled off the other dead raiders now paying for their former comrades care. The irony wasn’t lost on Roland. Jesus this situation was weird. Time to hit the dugout and see how much he’d need to drink before anything could feel remotely normal again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve played a little with the in game lore here. How settlement communication works is never really handled in much depth in game, but I figure that they must have some sort of radio communication available to send messages so that’s the idea I’m going with for this story.  
> I don’t have a proofreader other than myself, so apologies for any grammar issues, feel free to point any out so that I can correct them :]  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. So much for gratitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning; Swearing, fear of torture, implied fear of sexual assult.

The room he woke up in was bright. Artificial light seared his eyes when he opened them and he quickly shut them again. Skeev swore under his breath when he went to cover his eyes with his hand and found he couldn’t lift either of them - his wrists were cuffed to rails on the side of the bed he was laying on. He worked on piecing together his memories as he surveyed the room around him. The bed he was on was up against one wall, another empty bed parallel next it it. There were tables by each of the beds though they were both bare of any items, a folded up chair rested against the wall between the beds. A gurney stood on the other side of the room, surrounded by various medical devices and surgery supplies and a desk, filing cupboards and small table with coffee pot and snacks was against one of the other walls. The final wall had in it the rooms only door and the lack of any windows and the concrete walls suggested the room was probably in a basement. Was this some torture chamber? Or a legitimate doctors surgery? Having little experience with the latter and only having heard rumours of the former it was hard for Skeev to be sure which situation he was dealing with.

Bits of memory started to fit together. Gunshots. Screaming. An explosion. Pain. The rest of the gang were dead, why wasn’t he dead? Vaulty. The guy who took everyone out leaning over him, shoving something into his rib cage. After that events were even more fragmented. Seeing the sky overhead, his body seeming to move through the air even though he was laying prone on his back. A man in a white lab coat, injections.

He looked down at himself, trying to figure out exactly what had been done to him. His armour and clothing was gone, allowing him to see the bandages wrapped around his chest which were stained slightly with blood. There was a thin blanket pulled over him from the waist down, but he could see that he still had both of his legs and feet, even though he had very little feeling in them. His whole body felt pretty numb now that he actually thought about it.

Skeev’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard the unmistakable sound of a door opening. He immediately tensed, wrists pulling on the cuffs holding him. A man entered the room, carrying a clipboard and wearing a white lab coat like the one from his jumbled memory. Thankfully, he looked a lot more like the few actual doctors Skeev had met than some sort of deranged maniac intent on torturing him. Still, looks could be deceiving and Skeev wasn’t about to let his guard down.

“Who the fuck are you?! What is this?”

The ‘doctor’ actually jumped slightly when Skeev shouted at him. He must not have been expecting him to be awake yet. 

“Calm down. You’re safe. You’re at the Mega surgery centre in Diamond City, I’m Doctor Sun - I’ve been treating you. You were brought here with major injuries and you are recovering from surgery.”

“How’d I get here?”

“The General of the Minutemen brought you in. You’re in restraints because we were warned you may be aggressive upon waking. I wasn’t given your name. Do you remember who you are?”

“I’m Skeev. The fuck does the General want with me?” Skeev knew a little about the Minutemen - apparently they used to be some sort of settler’s militia- but they hadn’t been heard from in a while, least not that he was aware of. He’d never heard anything about them having a General.

The doctor gave an exasperated sigh as he checked Skeev over, making sure there was no excessive bleeding visible through the bandages around his chest. “I’ve told you everything I know. Anything else you need to know, you will have to ask the General yourself. He was interested enough in your recovery to pay for your care here and he wanted to see you once you regained consciousness, so I’m sure he’ll visit you before you’re ready for release.”

“I’m awake. You can let me go now.” 

“That’s not how this works. You might be awake now but you’re still too weak to go anywhere. The only reason we are having this conversation is because you are on a high dose of painkillers and not in so much agony that you can’t even speak. When those wear off you’re going to feel everything and believe me, it won’t be pleasant.”

Begrudgingly, Skeev responded with a flat “Fine.” The doctor really did seem legitimate, and since he wasn’t in any obvious immediate danger there was no reason he shouldn’t stay where he was (as though he had any choice about it). If and when this ‘General’ who brought him here turned up, he could get the answers he wanted then. 

With little else to do once the doctor had completed his checks and left the room, Skeev succumbed to sleep.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when a mans voice woke him. He’d initially felt well rested, but this feeling vanished and was replaced with the surge of adrenaline pumping through his veins when he set eyes on the man who’s voice had woken him.

The man sat on the folding chair that was now unfolded and occupied by the end of his bed was none other than the Vaulty. The very same one who’d wiped out the rest of the gang and done something to him before he’d passed out. Panic coiled in Skeev’s gut.

“Hey. Doc said I was ok to come see you. Sorry I woke you, he told me you were conscious now. How are you feeling?” Vaulty looked so calm. He wasn’t wearing any armour over his stupid blue vault suit and Skeev couldn’t see a weapon on him, but that didn’t mean the guy didn’t have one. Probably had it stashed somewhere, maybe around his ankle? He couldn’t see the guys legs from his position to check. 

Skeev tugged on his restrains but couldn’t get them to release. Instinctively he pulled his legs upward so that his knees were bent and he tried uselessly to use the leverage to push himself into a siting position but only ended up in an awkward approximation of a fetal position while still on his back and unable to move his arms.

“You! The hell is your game? The fuck you want with me?”

Vaulty’s eyes widened and the man instinctively raised his hands in an ‘I’m no threat’ gesture.  
“Er, well, hello to you too?” Warm blue eyes, well kept short black hair. Soft jawline for a guy. Well built and probably reasonably tall, but not exactly what Skeev remembered. It was definitely the same guy but he didn’t look anywhere near as terrifying as when they’d first met. Meeting under any other circumstances Skeev would have thought this guy was probably an easy target. Just another soft vault dweller.

He told himself that he wasn’t a coward for the way his heart pounded against his chest. The way his every muscle tensed in preparation for him to fight or run in a way that he wasn’t going to be able to. Vaulty wasn’t soft. He was dangerous, unpredictable, deadly. And he had Skeev alone in a basement handcuffed to a fucking bed. 

Skeev hissed and tugged on his restrains again, looking more like a cornered animal than a man. “You’re the guy that brought me here?!”

“Yeah. Look, just relax ok? I’m not going to hurt you. That’s literally the opposite of the reason I brought you here. You needed medical care and this was the closest clinic I could get you to.” Vaulty spoke softly, keeping his hands up where Skeev could see them, palms forward. This had to be a trick, some sort of lie. A fucked up game.

“Doesn’t answer my question Vaulty. Why ain’t I dead? What do you want me alive for?”

“My names Roland. I...I don’t want anything from you. I just didn’t want you to die.”

None of Skeev’s tension had eased. Nobody went to the trouble of patching you up unless they wanted something from you. Nobody was going to help you unless they got something out of it. 

“Funny. You didn’t seem to have a problem with killing everyone else.”

Roland’s jaw tensed at this, his hands, which had dropped to his sides, clenched into fists. ‘Gotcha’ Skeev thought, waiting for the inevitable violence or violation of a reprisal. None came. Instead, Roland dropped the tension in his fists and jaw and sunk back into his chair, almost like he was hurt.

“I didn’t kill you because you asked me not to. None of the others did. They were too busy trying to kill me.” His eyes remained downcast.

The way he spoke, it was almost believable. If Skeev was some dumb settler he probably would have fallen for it, but he knew enough about the world to know better. Still, he was at a major disadvantage here. If his injuries were as bad as he was being told (and he had to admit, with the initial adrenaline rush wearing thin he was really starting to notice the way his chest ached) he was handcuffed to a bed, and there was the not insignificant issue of the city full of people and security guards between him and any chance of escape.

“Let’s say I believe you. What happens now.”

“Kinda still working on that.” Roland admitted with a sigh. “Not to try to typecast you or anything, but you are a raider. Even if I wasn’t the General of the Minutemen, I couldn’t exactly just turn you loose on the Commonwealth again knowing that.”

Skeev didn’t know what a typecast was, but that wasn’t the part worrying him. Vaulty just admitted that he had no intention of letting him go. Shit. “So you do want something?” 

“No. I mean yes, sort of, but not in the way you’re thinking. I want to know that I’m not just going to end up facing off against you again and having to kill you because you’re on some drug fuelled settlement raid too high and out of it to be able to ask me not to.”

Be smart here Skeev. You can’t go anywhere right now so just go with it until you can do something about. He tried to sound resigned. Make Vaulty believe he’s broken - bested. “Whatever. Figure out what you’re going to do with me. Not like I can do anything about it.”

Vaulty looked slightly embarrassed all of a sudden. “I was actually hoping you might have some ideas on that...”

Skeev blinked and stared at the vault suit clad weirdo in front of him. “...You’re joking right?”

“I wish I was.”  
_______________________________________________________________________________________

Even though the raider was still clearly highly suspicious of him, Roland was relived when the man seemed to relax at least a little. 

“Sorry, I didn’t ask before. The doc said you called yourself Skeev? That’s your name right?”

“Yeah.”

Skeev. What sort of a name was that? Roland was pretty sure it had to be a raider thing - he’d come across other raiders with similarly strange names before. Still, if that’s what this guy chose to call himself who was he to judge? For all he knew Roland was a weird name these days.

Roland noticed the raider grimace slightly and shift his position, and realised that he must have been in pain. Obviously the panic of seeing the man who’d almost killed him again was not conducive to his recovery, and Roland didn’t want to stay any longer and make Skeev even more uncomfortable. It was...unpleasant, to say the least, to see how terrified he’d made someone. Roland never thought of himself as somebody anyone would fear. The fact that he was made him feel sick.

“Well, it’s been nice to meet you Skeev. I know this situation is...weird...but I really do just want to help you. We’ll work something out, I promise. You should try to rest up as much as you can.” Roland stood to leave. For a second he actually started to raise his hand as though to shake hands before realising how stupid that was. The raider with his hands cuffed to a bed probably wasn’t the hand shaking type anyway.

Skeev didn’t say anything else, just watched him closely like a radstag preparing to flee - or charge.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

During the two days Skeev had been allocated as recovery time, during which he’d be allowed to stay at the clinic, Roland worked on a plan for how to deal with him. Even though he’d be well enough to be moved after those two days, the doctor warned him that he’d still be weak and advised against any significant travel. He also warned that given Skeev’s background, chem withdrawal symptoms were probably going to be an issue, so it was probably best to keep him somewhere secure until they could be sure that those had passed. Moving him into Home Plate seemed like it would be the best idea, at least for the short term, since it was so close and had decent enough locks on the doors to be kept secure. Roland could keep an eye on him there and rent at room at the dugout. He was still struggling with ideas on what he should do once Skeev was fully recovered. It wasn’t like he could keep the guy captive in Home Plate forever.

Deacon had little in the way of advice on the matter, and had left Diamond City the day after they’d arrived to handle ‘very important trade related activities’. Unless Skeev turned out to be a secret synth, the Railroad really had no reason to get involved anyway.

Preston was surprisingly unhelpful when Roland contacted him for advice, commenting that the last thing the Commonwealth needed was raiders and he seemed disapproving of Roland’s decision to save Skeev in the first place. Roland had thought that he of all people would have been more accepting of his show of mercy, but given what he knew about the things Preston had gone through and the people he’d lost because of raiders, he supposed he could understand why he’d feel that way. Preston was able to tell him a little about how the Minutemen had handled issues of justice and punishment before they’d collapsed, but if Roland followed the old Minuteman code then Skeev was pretty much screwed; Jail sentences weren’t really a thing, other than short term incarceration for minor offences such as drunkenness or petty theft - it was too much of a waste of resources to keep someone locked up for any length of time. Serious crimes like those committed by most raiders were almost always punished with a public execution if the perpetrators were captured alive.

MacCready (who’d been staying in Sanctuary and had obviously been earwigging on Roland’s conversation with Preston) suggested Roland sell Skeev to slavers. He’d probably been joking, though with MacCready it was sometimes hard to tell.

He actively tried to avoid having to talk to Piper. She knew, of course, that he’d come into town with an injured raider who’s care he was paying for. She’d cornered him at the noodle stand and forced him into a round of twenty questions about what he was doing and why. He answered as best he could and stayed completely civil, but he’d never been overly fond of the press and found her constant prying hard to stomach. Roland actually had to make her promise that she wouldn’t try to get an interview out of Skeev and that she would stay away from him.

In the end Roland decided that the only viable long term solution was to get Skeev to reform. Locking him in a cell somewhere or holding him hostage forever was pointless and costly. Turning him loose would inevitably end up with him joining back up with other raiders or dead in a ditch somewhere.  
If he could retrain him somehow, get him to understand why his lifestyle was unsustainable, then maybe he could become someone the Commonwealth would benefit from. Roland would be able to prove that kindness was still the best way forward. That he could actually begin to rebuild a better world from out of this atomic nightmare, one person at a time.

First step - get Skeev from the clinic to Home Plate. Let him heal up some more and flush any remaining chems out of his system. In an ideal world, Roland would stay there with him to keep a close eye on him, but given how the man had reacted to his presence in the clinic he figured it would be better to let the guy have the place to himself and make regular check ups on him instead. He’d not been to visit since that first time because he was concerned about spooking Skeev and messing up his recovery.

Home plate wasn’t exactly nice, but it was reasonably clean, safe, and had the basic necessities of a liveable home. Roland had rigged up a working bathroom with the help of a local handyman in a part of the downstairs area with a toilet and bath, fitted a small kitchen with a working fridge and cooker, and had a pretty comfortable bed upstairs with what passed for clean sheets these days. A small lounge area had a couple of shelving units, a threadbare couch and rug that was so stained and worn it was impossible to tell what colour it had been or if it had ever had a pattern. 

Anything that Skeev might use as a weapon - on himself or anyone else - Roland removed. He made sure that the fridge and shelves were stocked with food and plenty of purified water and returned to the clinic to collect Skeev when he was discharged.

Skeev wasn’t quite so jumpy when they met again this time. The doctor had explained to him that he’d be released to Roland’s care and would be taken somewhere else to continue his recovery. It was probable that the doctor had also given him something to keep him calm during the move. The raider was obviously unhappy about the arrangement but was still too weak to put up much of a fight and had stopped protesting the plan once he’d realised that. He’d refused to let Roland support him on the short walk to Home Plate, though. The guy’s legs had wobbled dangerously and Roland had been ready to catch him from his anticipated falls on more than one occasion, but was told point blank to “Fuck Off” each time as Skeev steadied himself and carried on walking. So much for gratitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I altered the layout of the Mega surgery centre in game to make it more like an actual clinic.


	4. Misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get uncomfortable for Skeev, and awkward as hell for Roland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings; Sexual content, implied/referenced non-con. Swearing.   
> Nothing incredibly graphic but avoid if issues around rape trigger you.

The home Vaulty brought him to was nicer than any place he’d ever stayed before. Vaulty had already told him he wouldn’t be allowed to leave (something about him needing to be sure it was safe to release him some shit), but at least he was stuck in a fancy cage. 

Skeev hated to admit it, but being locked in scared the hell out of him. He’d tried the doors a few times after Roland left but they wouldn’t budge and he didn’t have anything he could use to pick the locks. Trying to find a way out was far more tiring than it should have been, and Skeev soon found he had to lie down after even a small amount of exertion when pain flared up in his ribs and he started to find it hard to breath again.

When Vaulty came to check on him, as he had promised he would do, he tried to get Skeev to take something. He said they were meds to help him recover, but Skeev didn’t buy it. They were probably some chems to make him compliant and he didn’t feel like making things any easier for his captor right now. To his surprise, Vaulty didn’t force the ‘meds’ on him when he objected. Just said that he hoped he’d change his mind and that he’d keep checking in on him to see how he was doing.

Withdrawals started to really bite on his second day out of the clinic. He’d never been a heavy chem user (for a raider), but he wouldn’t pass up a hit of jet or dose of daytripper when he could get hold of it, and he’d done psycho on a couple of unexpectedly difficult raids. He’d probably been given all sorts of stuff when he was as the clinic too, and his body did not like going cold turkey after days of med-x and whatever else the doc had had him on. It started with his skin itching, then headaches and nausea set in. His stomach growled but when he tried to eat something it came straight back up. He spent half the day with his head over the toilet, vomiting until there was nothing left in him and he heaved dryly. The pain in his chest every time he wretched was like being stabbed. 

True to his word, Roland had still been checking in on him throughout the day. Skeev gave up refusing the meds he was offering. There was no way they could make him feel any worse than he did already and if they were the real deal he sure as hell needed them. 

Roland injected him what he said was a low dose of med-x and antibiotics and made him take something he said was addictol. Within an hour his pain had eased significantly, and even though he still felt sick he had stopped heaving. It seemed that Vaulty wasn’t lying about the meds, at least.

The next day was easier. Skeev took his meds without any more protest every time Roland came to check on him and administer them. The general feeling of tightness in his chest eased with each passing day and he could feel his strength return little by little. Being stuck in the house was really starting to drive him mad, though, and he still kept expecting Roland to try something. Vaulty was probably going to wait until Skeev was nice and relaxed before he sprung whatever he had planned, and he’d be able to get more of a thrill out of it once Skeev wasn’t too weak to fight back anymore. There was nothing he could easily use as weapon anywhere in the home, and he’d looked everywhere; there wasn’t even a cooking pot that he could have used as an improvised club. He couldn’t fight his way out of this one. All he could do was preempt what he was pretty damn sure Vaulty was planning to do to him. Maybe that way he could feel like he wasn’t totally losing control of everything in his life.

Roland’s next visit was at six. He’d always come pretty much on the dot at the same times each day - once at 7am, again at midday, 6pm and then once more at 8pm. With each visit he’d give Skeev his meds and ask if he’d been eating and drinking enough. Other than to give him his injections, he never touched Skeev. Never even looked at him with anything other than concern in his expression. Vaulty was a good actor, had to give him that. 

Time to break his damn mask and get Vaulty to show his true colours. After his meds, rather than answer Roland’s same questions and then ignore him till he left, he stood from his seat when Vaulty did and advanced on the other man. Not too fast - he didn’t want his movements to be interpreted as an attack, but enough to make the other man back up from him until he was caught between Skeev and the wall.

Before Roland could push him away or protest, Skeev got right up against him, pressing their bodies against each other and Roland’s back against the wall. Vaulty’s eyes went wide with confusion, then worry. Skeev was a good few inches shorter than the other man and a fair bit skinnier, but they lined up well enough in all the places that mattered.

“This is what you want isn’t it?” Skeev ground his crotch against Roland’s, making his intentions clear, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the Vaulty.

Roland stood frozen in place as though turned to stone, his blue eyes meeting Skeev’s grey green ones with what looked a whole heck of a lot more like panic than excitement. “Skeev. Stop.” He was only acting this way because he’d wanted to be the instigator, Skeev was sure of it.

“Come on. Let’s just get it over with already. I’m tired of your games.” Skeev slid himself down the mans body until he was on his knees in front of him. Roland wasn’t showing any signs of arousal, which was annoying because it meant Skeev would have to put more work into getting him off, but he still felt sure that despite what Vaulty was saying this was what he’d really been after all along. If he didn’t want to fuck him, it meant he wanted to fuck with him, and that was infinitely worse. 

He fumbled with the vault suit, trying to figure out how to get it undone until he found a zipper in the right place. “I can’t deepthroat for shit but I’m good with my tongue.”

Skeev suddenly felt Vaulty’s hands on his shoulders and then a not too gentle shove pushed him away and he fell on his backside.

“That’s not what I want from you!” 

Damn it. Skeev had hoped he could get away with just giving the guy a blowjob. That wouldn’t have been so bad as long as he didn’t ram it down this throat, because feeling like you were going to choke to death on a guy’s dick was pretty awful. Still, if spreading his legs got him out of this situation then it had to be done.

“Fine. At least use something decent for lube.” 

Roland’s face flushed deep red when it clicked what Skeev was implying.

“No! I don’t want that either! I don’t...Jesus. Just no, Skeev. I don’t want to have sex with you, ok?”

Skeev paused, already halfway through removing his own pants. “...Then...what do you want?” There was concern in his voice. Obviously, he really thought Roland might want to do worse than just rape him. 

“I told you, I don’t want anything from you! Certainly not that, I would never...I would never do that, ok?” Roland was still backed up against the wall like he wanted to sink into it, but his stance had relaxed at least a little now that Skeev had stopped making moves on him. “I want to give you a better life than the one you’ve had. I mean that. I didn’t save you for caps or...” He paused awkwardly. “..Sexual favours. I spared your life because you asked me to. And now that I’ve saved your life I want you to actually, you know, have the chance to live it.”

It was Skeev’s turn to freeze up. Vaulty - Roland, he really did sound like he was being genuine. But still it just didn’t make any sense to him why this man would be doing all this for him without an ulterior motive. The thought was completely insane. 

“Then just let me go.” Skeev hated how pathetic he sounded in that moment. If anyone from the old gang could see him now, they’d have laughed at him for days. On his ass with his pants half down begging for freedom. Fucking pathetic.

“Skeev...” Roland’s voice was calm again, his eyes now sympathetic rather than startled. He actually knelt down so he could meet Skeev’s eyes. “I explained that already. If you go back out there and start raiding again, then if we were ever to meet again I’d have to kill you. That’s if someone, or something else didn’t get to you before that. Please, at least give me the chance to show you a different life.”

The former raiders options were limited. He could chose to believe Roland, go along with whatever plan the guy had for him and hope for the best. He could go with his gut - which even now still told him he was being lied to - but go along with it anyway until he had a chance to escape. Or he could attack Vaulty and hope to overpower him before making a run for it. Skeev figured the last option was the least likely to do him any good, at least for the time being, and he wasn’t dumb enough for the first. He had to go along with this for now, play along as best he could and chose the right moment to make his move.

“Fine.”

Roland smiled uncertainly, stood, and held out his hand to help Skeev up. Skeev took it and allowed himself to be pulled up from the floor. He noted the strength in Vaulty’s arms. Even unarmed the guy would probably overpower Skeev without too much trouble - he had the height advantage and although not exactly weak, Skeev had spent much of his life bordering on malnourished and Roland had a definite muscle mass advantage over him too.

“Thank you.” Roland clapped him on the shoulder gently and released Skeev’s hand. “Give me a day or two to get some things sorted and we can get you out of here. I want you to come with me to Sanctuary. It’s a real nice settlement, if you can make a new start anywhere, it’ll be there.”

Skeev just nodded and shuffled backwards. He’d never heard of the place, but there were loads of smaller settlements dotted around the Commonwealth. It would be much easier to get away from Vaulty in a place like that than it would be here in Diamond City.

Roland nodded, coughed in the way one would when clearing their throat, and awkwardly backed his way to the door to leave. He came back again at eight to give Skeev his next dose of meds, but was pretty much silent. He seemed to be trying very hard not to look at Skeev any more than he absolutely had to. Fucking weird vault boy.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

That hadn’t gone how Roland had expected it to. Granted, it seemed like Skeev was on board for the whole going to Sanctuary idea and might (hopefully) trust him a little more now, but the way he’d gotten to that point? He had been expecting Skeev might try to attack him at some point, but never had he expected him to...offer himself like that. Only it hadn’t exactly been a clear offer - Skeev was obviously expecting Roland to use him regardless of wether it was what Skeev really wanted or not. Like he’d just been waiting for Roland to try to rape him and figured it would be easier if he just ‘got it over with’. Jesus. What had Skeev seen when he was with the raiders? Was it something that had happened to him before, or that he’d done to someone else? 

Roland shifted on his rented bed at the dugout. He tried to push the thought of how Skeev’s body pressed against his had felt out of his head. The way he’d looked when he was down on his knees in front of him, the feeling of his fingers on his zipper. 

Nope. No. Bad thoughts. Not ok. What had happened between him and Skeev was a horrible misunderstanding and not something that should be making his boxers feel uncomfortably tight. It had just been a while, and his body had desires, that was all. Under different circumstances - Really different circumstances - Skeev wasn’t a bad looking guy he supposed. He had beautiful eyes and strong but sharp facial features, which were things Roland had always found attractive in other men. 

Nora and he had always had an open relationship. Both of them were bisexual and had sometimes enjoyed the sort of ‘companionship’ that they couldn’t offer to each other. It didn’t mean that they weren’t still utterly devoted to one another. Roland hadn’t been with anyone since he’d left the vault. He’d instantly been attracted to Deacon when they met, but it became clear to him pretty quickly that nothing was going to happen there beyond flirting.

Sighing, he let his hand slide into his boxers. He would never, ever, do anything to or with anyone that wasn’t one hundred percent on board for consensual fun times. But within the privacy of his own mind it could did no harm to let different scenarios play out. Roland wrapped a hand around his hardening length. Imagined a husky voice against his crotch. “I’m good with my tongue...”

Roland hated himself all that much more afterwards.


	5. The Merc, The Raider and The Man Out of Time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roland brings MacCready along for the road trip to Sanctuary. Nothing better than a road trip to bond with new friends, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings; swearing, child slavery references, implied child abuse

MacCready was initially fine with the idea when Roland radioed Sanctuary again and requested he make the journey from there all the way to Diamond City for a ‘special mission’. A whole lot less so when Roland explained what the mission was. The mercenary had finally agreed to help Roland bring Skeev back to Sanctuary with them, though if he was doing so because he felt he owed Roland some loyalty for taking out Winlock and Barnes or because he’d been told that if he did this Roland would owe him a big favour wasn’t clear. Whatever the motivation for his agreement, MacCready headed out with the next caravan to the city and told Roland he’d be there within the day.

Roland could have joined up with a caravan himself and headed to Sanctuary with Skeev that way, sure. The truth was he didn’t want to put the lives of everyone in that caravan at risk should Skeev try something, or more likely risk the caravan guards shooting Skeev for looking at them the wrong way. There were just too many ways the situation could go wrong.  
He trusted MacCready. Even if the merc wasn’t totally on board with his plan Roland knew that he would follow orders and not do anything stupid, and he could handle himself. Between Mac and himself, Roland wasn’t worried that Skeev could get the drop on them.

Skeev had finished his course of antibiotics and was weaning off of the pain meds. He was fine on his feet now and his wounds were mostly healed, which made Roland confident that he’d be physically ok to make the journey, but did increase his unease that the man might try to do a runner. He didn’t want to give the guy the opportunity; if Skeev ran him or Mac would have to hurt him enough to stop him from escaping and then the plan would be right back where it started, with a hugely reduced chance of success. If Skeev turned violent and tried to attack them, he’d have to be put down. After all the cost and effort to keep him alive, Roland really didn’t want to have to do that. If he was honest with himself that was another reason he’d wanted MacCready with him for this. Mac wouldn’t have a problem pulling the trigger on Skeev if he had to. Roland wasn’t sure if he himself would or not, and that concerned him.

Since the...unfortunate misunderstanding...between him and Skeev, Roland had found it even more awkward than before to be around the guy. Skeev hadn’t done anything else like that since and had gone back to mostly ignoring him, answering any questions with a grunt or a nod, maybe an actual ‘yeah’ or ‘no’ if he was lucky. Beyond that it was like trying to have a conversation with a brick wall and Roland wasn’t sure how he’d be able to get through to him. For his plan to work it was imperative that he did. All he could do was keep trying with the hope that eventually Skeev would open up and start to trust him. Right now it seemed more than a little unlikely but Roland was nothing if not an optimist.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

A man in duster with distinctive hat was waiting outside for them when Vaulty finally led him out of Home Plate. Given the relative quiet of the marketplace it had to be sometime before midday. The sky was overcast, which Skeev was glad about. He didn’t fancy being blinded by the sun after spending what felt like forever stuck indoors. As Roland closed the door and locked up behind him, Skeev sized up the man he’d been told would be joining them on the trip to Sanctuary - MacCready.

MacCready had a sour look on his face as he regarded Skeev. Skeev thought how much he looked like a rat. The coat looked almost too big on the man’s narrow shoulders - Skeev recognised the trick of using clothes to make yourself look bigger than you were, he’d used it himself. He guessed that under those clothes MacCready was probably a similar size to himself. The rifle slung over Mac’s shoulder showed he was probably a sniper. So good at range but not so good at close range stuff, most likely. 

Roland stepped in between them. “Skeev, this is MacCready. MacCready, this is Skeev.” He used his hands to gesture from one to the other, a polite smile on his face. 

Skeev didn’t acknowledge the introduction, just turned his head away to watch the other people milling around the market doing whatever it was that spoiled city types did. 

“Shall we get moving then, boss?” Was MacCready’s only response, his expression still that of someone who’d taken a bite of something particularly unpleasant.

“Yeah, sure. We should try to get at least half way there before sun down.” Roland replied, securing the pack on his back and trying to ignore the tension in the air. 

______________________________________________________________________________________

The group made slow but steady progress, sticking to the caravan routes, taking regular breaks. Vaulty said the breaks were so he could plan the route on his Pip-Boy map, but there was a good chance that the frequent stops were for Skeev’s benefit. Even though he was trying his best not to show it, he was finding that the journey took more out of him than it should and he found himself needing to catch his breath each time they stopped. MacCready had taken point for the trip and Roland the rear, with Skeev flanked in the middle. 

As the sun started to fall lower in the sky, they found a somewhat intact pre-war house at the side of the road that they could camp in for the night. After a sweep to check the place for anything nasty, bedrolls were unpacked and laid out in the homes main room (the floor above had lost its roof and a decision had been made that shelter outweighed elevated position on this occasion). MacCready would take the first shift to guard them while they slept and sat himself on the remains of a stool that had a good view out a the large broken window with his rifle across his lap. 

Vaulty was snoring not long after he’d bedded down. Skeev lay on his bedroll opposite and turned his back to the Vaulty, instead facing towards MacCready and the window. He didn’t know how Roland could just fall asleep like that so easily when he was somewhere not particularly secure and only had one guy to watch his back. Skeev certainly had no intention to watch out for anyone but himself. If the group got attacked, he was going to use the opportunity to run. Hopefully adrenaline would give him enough of a kick that his currently shitty stamina wouldn’t be a hindrance to that. He found himself looking out of the homes broken window and trying to plan the best path of escape.

“You wouldn’t get very far.” The merc said suddenly. He was watching Skeev closely and seemed to have read his mind. Or at least reached a logical conclusion about what he thinking. When Skeev didn’t respond, MacCready spoke up again, using his sniper rifle to gesture at the nearby rusted out vehicle in what had once been the homes driveway. “I’d put a bullet in your head before you could get to that car.”

“And what would your boss think of that?” Skeev replied, defiant, meeting MacCready’s stare. Vaulty was the one in charge of...whatever this was, and for some reason he seemed to want Skeev alive. 

MacCready shrugged, his eyes hawk like and resolute in meeting Skeev’s. “Who do you think gave me the order to shoot you if you ran?”

Even though it was what Skeev suspected - Vaulty had all but told him the same thing himself, all be it in friendlier words - it still sent a chill up his spine that he did his best not to show. Death or submission. Why would it be anything else? He grunted and rolled over so he didn’t have to look at the ratty merc anymore. He could still feel MacCready’s eyes burning into his back. Sleep didn’t come easily, but it found him eventually.

He was woken by the sound of an argument - one that was trying to be kept quiet. When he cautiously opened an eye, he found he was still lying on the side that had been facing Vaulty, but Roland wasn’t on his bedroll anymore.

“You should let me shoot him.” Definitely MacCready.

Skeev quickly closed his eye again and pretended to still be asleep. He was hoping his waking up hadn’t been noticed - he needed to know how this argument would play out.

“Absolutely not. We’ve been through this MacCready - nobody is to harm him unless they absolutely have to.” 

“He’s a liability and you know it!” The merc wasn’t as good at keeping his voice down as Roland was.

“We have to at least give him a chance.” 

“You think he’d do the same for you? You said it yourself - you don’t know anything about the guy other than he’s a raider and he and his gang tried to kill you. He’s probably a murderer and worse.”

“And he might just be a screwed up kid who fell in with the wrong crowd and got stuck there.”

“Boss. He’s not a kid. He’s a man that tried to kill you. Things aren’t like they were in your day, you don’t run with raiders and end up a good person. You get fu- urg...it messes you up, ok? You don’t just pull someone out of that life and expect them to be ok.”

A pause. “But You’re a good person, MacCready.” 

“That’s...That’s not the same and you know it. Don’t you dare compare me to someone like him.” MacCready’s voice dripped with anger that he was obviously trying hard to contain.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that I...” Roland sighed deeply. “I know it’s not the same. But I need to do this. Not just for him, for me too.”

“Boss?” A question. There was still anger in the merc’s voice but it was overlaid with confusion.

“If I don’t at least try, then I’m not the person I used to be. I’m someone else. And I don’t know how to deal with that.” Roland had spoken quietly, only just loud enough for Skeev to make out his words. He almost sounded like he was on the brink of tears.

There was an extended period of uncomfortable silence before MacCready spoke again. “We should get moving.” This time his tone was all business. 

Skeev realised the conversation was over then but remained completely still and with his eyes closed, hoping they would assume he’d slept through the whole thing. He heard the sound of footsteps approaching and sensed the body of a man standing over him. 

“Hey, it’s time to wake up.” Roland’s voice. Flat. Emotionless. Something was dropped against his back and instinctively he jumped, sitting bolt upright and glaring at the man who’d ‘woken’ him. “The hell man?”

Roland just pointed to the can of water and the pack of chips he’d dropped beside him and turned away, gearing up with his armour and packing up their stuff. 

Skeev noticed MacCready outside, his back to the house, smoke drifting up from him as he smoked a cigarette. Even if he hadn’t overheard the argument he’d have known something was wrong, the air was heavy and claustrophobic. He stood and rolled up his sleeping bag without saying anything else.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The mood was heavy for some time as their small group traversed the wasteland. Roland really hoped he hadn’t screwed things up with MacCready with his badly misjudged comparison. He really liked Mac and despite their differences he felt like they’d always gotten along well together. It was almost like having one of the guys from his old squad back. MacCready reminded him quite a lot of some of the younger recruits he’d served with and that made him feel like they had a bond, a level of mutual understanding. If he lost that because he was an idiot that spoke from his heart instead of his head, it would crush another little bit of his soul into the dirt. And if he kept losing parts of himself pretty soon their wouldn’t be anything left.

Looking up from his feet, Roland looked ahead to where MacCready walked at the front of their little party. He held his rifle in his hands instead of on his back as they made their way around Cambridge, avoiding the worst of the feral infested streets. The young man was alert, ready for any ferals wandering beyond their usual haunts. He’d been worth every one of the 250 caps he’d paid when he first hired him and every cap he’d given him since. Roland wasn’t sure that MacCready really understood just how much he valued him as a friend, not just an employee. 

His gaze shifted from MacCready to the back of man walking behind him. Skeev was wearing the road leathers Roland had lent him for the trip (his old gear was all either broken or sold to pay for his care) and they really showed just how thin he was. He was about the same height and build as MacCready, but his slightly broader shoulders hinted that he might have been a larger guy had he received the right nutrition growing up. His dirty blonde hair had grown out some and looked scruffy as heck but it had obviously once been styled up into the sort of spikey Mohawk he’d seen several raiders sport. He still looked like a raider. But Roland had to believe he could be more. He had to get through to him.

“Hey Skeev?” Roland had quick-stepped to catch up with the former raider, and now walked along beside him rather than behind. Skeev gave him the side-eye as they walked.

“What.”

“How long had you been with those raiders?” Roland tried to make the question sound innocent and chatty. If his previous attempts at conversion were anything to go by he wouldn’t get much of an answer, but to his surprise Skeev actually gave him a full reply.

“I dunno. Like ten years or something. About that.” 

“Really? That’s a long time, you must have been really young when you joined up with them huh?”

“I was ten. Didn’t join ‘em though, Roach brought me.”

Roland’s steps faulted as he processed the information. “Wait, when you say he ‘brought’ you you mean..”

“I was a slave.” Skeev filled in, guessing what Roland was trying to ask. He hadn’t turned to face Roland and was instead keeping his eyes focused on some point in the distance, but he’d made the statement so matter-of-factly, like he was making a statement about the weather.

“As a child? People keep children as slaves?!” Roland was horrified. He knew slavery in the wasteland was a thing but he hadn’t considered that people would do something so terrible to children. 

Skeev looked at him like he was stupid. “Yeah. I don’t know what it’s like in the vaults but out here shit like that happens all the time.” He spoke about it like it was nothing. Like it was just a basic fact of life, like the fact that water was irradiated to high heaven or that the sky was somehow still blue. Roland felt bile rise in this throat.

“Why...why would a raider buy a child?”

“Boss.” MacCready had stopped up ahead of them and was turned to face them. He’d obviously been listening to the conversation. “I told you raiders were into some horrible shi- crap. You don’t need to know the details.” Roland knew MacCready was just trying to protect him from the horrible facts but Roland’s mind was already absolutely reeling. This was what the world had become? This is what had happened to the country he’d sworn he’d give his life to protect?

“It weren’t like that.” Skeev interjected. “Roach wasn’t into that nasty shit. He wanted me around because I could get into settlements and steal shit. People felt sorry for this little kid turning up at the gate and they let me in. I’d rob ‘em blind and take the loot back to Roach. Sometimes I’d case the place so the others knew if it was worth raidin’ or not. Roach looked after me.”

Roland still felt sick at the revelation of child slavery being a not uncommon occurrence in the Commonwealth, but at least Skeev hadn’t...hadn’t been...God it was just too awful to think about.

“I’m sorry Skeev. I’m so sorry you went through that.”

Again Skeev seemed very confused by Roland’s response. “Why? Ain’t like any of it had anything to do with you. Anyway it don’t matter anymore, it’s the past.” His demeanour had changed and it seemed like he was about to close up again. “Why’d you want to know this stuff anyway?”

“Because I want to get to know you. If I’m going to help you build a new life I need to at least understand a little about your life up until now right?” Roland sounded a little more composed than he had, but it wasn’t hard to tell he was still shaken.

Skeev shrugged. “I guess.”

“I’m sorry if asking you these things brought back bad memories.”

Skeev kicked a pebble and sent it skittering down the road. “It’s fine.” He was obviously done talking and Roland didn’t want to press him on the issue, at least not for now.

Up ahead MacCready had started moving again, but slower than before, his attention split between watching the road ahead and keeping an ear on the conversation behind him for any more conversational land mines that might send his boss spinning. Roland was so composed most of the time that it was easy to forget sometimes just how fragile he was underneath. How very new to this world he was. Roland was way too kind for all of this and damn it  
MacCready wanted to protect that little spark of kindness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos so far, they really help keep me motivated :]


	6. Sanctuary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Swearing

Sanctuary was a place that even now, after all of the years and the tragedy, somehow still felt like home for Roland. Sturges had rigged up a few turrets to protect the main gate that covered access from the bridge, which beeped in acknowledgement of their groups presence as they approached it. Walls built from scrap, vehicle shells and parts of the old buildings surrounded a good chunk of the community they’d build the settlement in, making it reasonably secure from all but the most dedicated of attackers. There was still a lot of work to be done, but it was shaping up nicely. Twelve new settlers had joined the community since its (post-war) founding and traders came through on a regular basis. It was getting towards evening and some of the light from the settlements very basic but working power system were visible.

As soon as the gates opened up to allow them entry, Dogmeat charged out to great them, yapping excitedly. MacCready joined Roland in making a fuss of the dog, but Skeev tensed. Since so many dogs in the wasteland were aggressive, possibly rabid, it made sense that he would be wary. 

Preston was the next to greet them. He smiled and waved, holding his laser musket over his shoulder. “Good to see you General. How was your journey?”

“It was fine, thanks. Everything been alright here?” Roland reached out his hand and Preston shook it. It was a silly thing, really, an old world formality that few bothered with anymore, but that little gesture made Roland feel so at ease with Preston and had since the first time they’d met in Concord, when Garvey had gratefully shook his hand for coming to his groups rescue.

“Yes sir. Work on the new housing is going well, and the purifier you helped Sturges set up has been a godsend. I believe Sturges wanted to talk to you, actually. Think he’s finished with the power armour mods you asked for.”

“That’s great! I owe him a beer. Heck, several beers. And a gift basket.”

Preston probably had no idea what a gift basket was, but he smiled anyway, ever eager to please.

“Preston, I want you to meet Skeev. I’d like you to make him welcome here, hopefully he’ll be staying a while.”

Skeev was staring at his own feet like they were the most interesting thing in the world. He didn’t look up to acknowledge Preston. Preston, for his part, did little more than look Skeev up and down and nod skeptically. He lowered his voice and motioned for Roland to follow him off to the side.

“General, are you sure about this? I’m not saying I don’t trust your judgement but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried. These are good people here, they’ve been through a lot. We have families here now. If anything were to happen to them...”

“I know, Preston. I understand, believe me. But I don’t know what else to do with him. Here, we can keep a close eye on him, hopefully get him to socialise. Find him a job, maybe. Can you think of anywhere else he’d have such a good chance to make a new start?”

“I see your point, General. But I want you to know, if he does anything to put the people here at risk, I won’t hesitate to take him out.” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. I trust you, Preston.”

Preston nodded and it seemed like Roland had said enough to put the mans mind at ease. The Minutemen were lucky to have a man like Preston championing their cause. It was in no small part due to Preston’s enthusiasm for helping people and his loyalty to the idea of protecting the innocent that Roland had accepted the role of General. Roland clapped Preston on the shoulder and the Minuteman returned to his rounds.

MacCready was still standing with Skeev just inside the now re-sealed gate, keeping his eyes trained on the raider while he scratched Dogmeat behind the ear. He straightened when Roland came back over to him, and stopped petting the dog to give his employer his full attention again. Dogmeat whined, then slunk off to bother someone else for pets when he realised nobody here was going to give him any more attention for the moment.

“If you want to get some rest Mac, I’m going to introduce Skeev to Codsworth and show him my old place. We’re going to sit and have a nice chat and get to know each other a bit better, aren’t we Skeev?” Roland pointedly made eye contact with Skeev when the man looked up sheepishly. He’d kept his tone friendly, but his statement hadn’t really been a question and it was obvious that Skeev understood that.

“Yeah...” 

MacCready looked like he was about to protest, perhaps warn Roland that it wasn’t a good idea to let Skeev into his home like he was planning to, perhaps to start another argument about how this whole idea was crazy. Before he had the chance, Roland cut him off by speaking again.

“Now you have a good think about that favour I owe you, ok? Anything you need, anything at all, consider it done.”

That was enough to stop the merc complaining anymore. He nodded, straightened his cap and walked away with the look of someone in deep thought on his face.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

If Home Plate had been fancy, then the home that Roland had in Sanctuary was a palace.

Vaulty led Skeev down what must have been the settlements Main Street, a surprisingly wide and well cleared old road flanked with domiciles. Some were converted old world bungalows with patched roofs and walls, others looked far more like the standard wood and scrap shacks that Skeev was used to. Between them there were crops and the occasional wandering brahmin, and one or two trade stands. People that saw Vaulty waved and smiled at him, some even came up to greet him and chat for a moment. All avoided Skeev beyond saying an awkward ‘hello’ and looked at him with suspicion. Skeev was more than a little tempted to tell them where they could shove their forced niceties, but instead he stayed silent and ignored them completely.

In front of one of the old bungalows ahead, a robot seemed to be pruning a long dead hedge. Skeev stopped in his tracks. He’d run into a bot similar to this one a few years ago. He’d been with a group sent out to scavenge when they came across one that they’d thought was inactive. They’d set to work pulling it to pieces when it suddenly rose up from its dormant state and turned its weaponry on them. Alice had her face burned right off and Price took a buzzsaw through the neck. Skeev had just run for it until he’d been sure it wasn’t following him anymore. Took him a full day to find his way back home because he’d run a whole lot further than he’d realised in his panic.

“Codsworth!” Vaulty called out to the robot, who to Skeev’s horror turned its eye stalks in their direction and floated toward them.

“Sir! So good to have you home again! Would you introduce me to your new friend? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” The robot spoke in some weird, unfamiliar accent and sounded far, far too cheery. 

Roland took a step to the side ready to make the introductions, essentially leaving Skeev completely undefended in the face of the mechanical menace.

“Oh fuck no, keep that thing away from me!” Skeev unfroze enough to take several steps backwards.

“Hrmmph. Charming.” How could a robot even sound offended like that?

“Hey, be nice Skeev, Codsworth’s a friend. He’s my old Mr. Handy from before the war. He’s not going to hurt you. But you might hurt his feelings if you keep looking at him like that.” Was Vaulty actually Pouting because Skeev didn’t like his robot?

Skeev stared from Roland to the robot, eyes wide with confusion and fear. “...You’re what? Before the war? The fuck are you talking about? I’ve seen what these things can do, what if it..short circuits or something and burns us all up?”

“I can assure you, my circuitry is in perfect working order.” Codsworth still sounded like he was offended, like he actually had emotions or something. “I would never harm Mr. Roland or any of his friends.” Somehow those beady little robot eyes actually managed to give Skeev a distinctly dirty look. “Not even the rude ones.”

Roland smiled and patted Codsworth affectionately on his cold, metallic dome of a head. “See. Friendly. Nothing to worry about.”

Skeev had no words. What was this? Maybe none of this was really happening and he was actually already dead - blown to pieces by the same frag that got Roach. Maybe he’d done way too many chems and this was all a bad trip. But no, this was real. He was hostage to a completely insane Vaulty.

“Well, this is home.” Roland snapped him out of his train of thoughts by speaking, pointing to the bungalow. It was in better overall shape than most of the others. Efforts had clearly been made to restore it to as close to its original state as possible.

“Hey Codsworth, I don’t want you to take this wrong way, but would you be ok spending the night somewhere else? I think Skeev here might die of a heart attack otherwise...”

The robots eye stalks dipped slightly, the way a dogs ears would when told off. “If that’s what you wish, sir.”

“Thanks. I’ll see tomorrow.”

Codsworth slowly hovered away, eventually disappearing from Skeev’s line of sight behind another building.

“You going to be ok now? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to Codsworth, but I’m not going to force you to be around him until you are. Come on in, I’ll get us something to eat.” Roland opened up the door and let Skeev go through before him. The place was almost pristine. 

“You live here?” Skeev wasn’t sure how someone could live in a place and it stay so tidy and clean. It looked like a room straight out of one of the old magazines.

“I have other places I stop at sometimes, like the place in Diamond City you stayed in. But, this, this is my home. I used to live here, before the war. It’s changed a lot but...it’s still home.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean ‘before the war’, you ain’t a ghoul.”

Roland closed the door behind them and motioned for Skeev to take a seat at the table in front of them, next to the kitchen area, which Skeev did. He ran a hand across the back of the sofa next to door and gazed around the room, a small, distant sort of smile on his face, before heading into the kitchen. 

“Yeah. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. I’m over two hundred years old. I’m not a ghoul because even though I’ve technically been alive all those years, I spent the majority of them frozen. Piper wrote an article all about me in her paper, which pretty much explains everything. I think I have a copy here somewhere if you wanted to read it while I cook.”

“Nah. Can’t read. Can’t you just tell me about it?”

Roland sighed as he looked though the fridge, picking out a few items and setting them on the counter. “I suppose so. I tell you what. I give you my story, and you agree to answer some questions for me, how does that sound?” Skeev nodded.

And so Skeev listened as Vaulty told him about how he’d had a wife and a son, and that they’d lived in this very house with their robot butler, Codsworth, all those years ago. About how they’d made it into vault 111 behind Sanctuary moments before the bombs fell, leaving Codsworth behind in their panic. About being frozen into cryogenic stasis and awaking to see his wife shot and his infant son stolen from before his eyes while he was powerless to help. How he’d stumbled out of the vault and found the world an alien place. How he learned about the Minutemen, and the Institute, and his mission to get his son back.  
It was an amazing story. Completely insane and yet, with everything Skeev had seen here, and the weird way Vaulty acted, almost believable. 

At some point during his story Roland had finished cooking and set out a plate of instamash, tatos and brahmin steak for each of them. Roland had dug into his food heartily while Skeev picked at his, not because he was worried it was spiked with anything, or because it didn’t taste good, but because he got so wrapped up in what Roland was saying. If Vaulty was self conscious about the way Skeev had been staring wide eyed at him the whole time, he didn’t make it obvious.

“Yeah...So.” Roland shook his head and took a deep breath, indicating that his tale was over. “I really am old as hell. You’re, what, twenty?”

Skeev felt himself tense slightly now that the focus of conversation was on him. “Yeah, or near enough. Don’t know exactly, not like I ever knew when my birthday was or nothing.” He pushed the mash around on his plate some more with his fork.

“Wait, so you’ve never had a birthday party? Oh damn, that sucks! Tell you what, you chose a date you want to be your birthday and me and Deacon will set you up a party. I’m pretty sure he’s about the only guy left in the Commonwealth who might know where to find some party hats.” Vaulty had a big dumb grin on his face like he’d just had the best idea ever.

Skeev blinked and couldn’t come up with a good response, so he just nodded and gave a confused ‘ok’.

Roland’s demeanour abruptly changed, and his smile dropped into a serious expression .

“So, you agreed to answer some questions for me if I told you my story, and I have, so now it’s your turn. The things I need to ask you - they’re going to be uncomfortable questions for you. I want you to understand that I’m not asking to pass any judgement on you, I just need to know who I’m working with so I know the best way to proceed with helping you, alright? And I need to you to be honest with me, Skeev. If you can’t be honest with me, this won’t work and...”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Skeev nodded. Roland didn’t need to finish that sentence for him to understand the implication. He’d already overheard what would happen to him if he stepped out of line. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder - was his best bet to be completely honest? Lie but try to make it seem believable? What if he said something Vaulty didn’t want to hear and the guy decided he didn’t want to ‘help’ him anymore?

“Ok. First question. When you were with the other raiders, what exactly did you do with them? You mentioned that when you were first with them, you’d go into settlements to steal from them and scope them out. Was that your only role?” Roland had pushed his empty plate away and was watching Skeev closely, his arms folded across his chest.

“For a while, yeah. Stopped working when I got older though. Folks stop being so trusting when you don’t look like a little kid no more. After that, I pretty much did what the others did. Roach didn’t like sending me out on raids though so mostly I scav’d for stuff. Pissed some of the guys off that I didn’t get put in the ‘firing line’ like they did so Roach had to let me out on the raids eventually.”

Roland nodded, his expression hard to read. Skeev had decided to tell the truth - he wasn’t sure if Vaulty would be able to catch him out on a lie and didn’t want to deal with the consequences of that if it happened.

“Did you kill people?”

“Yeah.” Roland really couldn’t have been long out of a vault to ask a question like that. Pretty much everyone was a killer if they lived outside of an established settlement. Kill or be killed was a rule he thought everyone knew. Life two hundred years ago must have been a hell of a lot different to now, if Vaulty’s story was true.

“How many?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t keep a list.”

“Rough estimate?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. Like seven, maybe ten. Might have killed people while I was high and not remember ‘em.” The complete truth was that Skeev actively tried to block out the memories of killing people. It had never been something he enjoyed, it was just something he had to do. You didn’t survive long out here if you weren’t willing to kill anything or anyone who threatened that survival.

Roland didn’t seem exactly happy with Skeev’s answer but he didn’t get angry, so hopefully that was a good sign. “Next question. Did you ever force anyone who was unwilling or unable to consent, to have sex with you?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Skeev dropped his fork, glaring daggers at Roland. These questions were getting way too personal. 

“Answer the question, Skeev.” Roland’s eyes had gone cold, staring him down with disturbing intensity.

“No.” Skeev folded his arms tightly across his chest. “I might have done some stuff with the other raiders while I was out of it that maybe they weren’t totally into. I don’t know. But I never did nothin’ like that while I was sober.” There was silence and for a moment Skeev was worried Vaulty was pissed. He let himself glance up from his mushed up food to look at Roland, wanting to get an idea of his mood. Vaulty still looked surprisingly calm, or at least not about to attack him or anything. Caught in his own thoughts the next question caught him off guard.

“Has anyone ever forced you to do anything sexual that you didn’t want to?”

“None of your fucking business.” Skeev was done. The hell did Vaulty need to know something like that for? It wasn’t anyone’s business but his own. Even other raiders weren’t stupid enough to go asking each other shit like that, unless they wanted a fist in the face or a knife in the gut. He stood quickly, his chair scraping across the floor loudly as it was shoved out from under him. He was still cognisant enough not to try leaving the house without permission, so he paced beside the table instead. 

“I’m tired. I want to sleep. I want to go someplace I can sleep.” He needed to be away from this conversation, away from Vaulty, right the hell now. 

Roland stood, “Ok. Ok. I understand. I know that was a lot to have to answer but...”

“Don’t.” Skeev interrupted, halting his pacing to stand rigid, pointedly staring at the door out of the house. “Can I go now?”

With a sigh, Roland nodded. “There’s a spare room down the hall you can stay in for the night. If your not comfortable sharing the house with me, there’s a bunkhouse you can sleep at but you’d be sharing a room with a few other people.” 

Skeev considered for a moment. He did want to get as far away from Vaulty as he could, but he didn’t like the idea of having to sleep in the same room as a bunch of strangers. Strangers who knew he was a raider and might not be so tolerant of him as Roland had been so far. 

“I’d have my own room if I stayed here? You’d stay in different room?” 

“Yes. I won’t bother you again until morning, you have my word.”

Skeev had to admit that Vaulty had been good to his word up till now. He’d had lots of chances to harm Skeev, yet he hadn’t. Other people - MacCready, the people in Sanctuary - they all obviously thought a lot of him. Sure, settlers could be dumb as bricks and way too trusting, but the way they spoke to him, the way they behaved around him, spoke of a trust that had been well earned. 

“Fine. Then I’ll stay here.” Skeev finally agreed.


	7. Cleanliness is next to Godliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skeev is offered a new home, while Roland moves forward with his plans to rescue Shaun.
> 
> I have no idea what I’m doing with chapter titles. Does it show?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning- swearing, mild sexual content.

A gentle knock on the door woke Skeev from his light sleep, followed by the sound of Vaulty asking, “Hey. You sleep ok?” 

“Yeah.” Skeev replied, deciding it best to get out of bed since Vaulty must have had a reason to wake him. He’d slept in his boxers and didn’t feel like re-dressing just to ask the guy what he wanted, so he cracked the door open just enough to look out but not be too visible.

“There’s running water here, if you’re interested in a hot shower.” Roland stayed a little way back from the door, not forcing Skeev to open it any further than he was comfortable.

Skeev couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an actual warm shower. He hadn’t even had access to working plumbing since before he’d been sold to Roach. Raider hygiene mostly consisted of wiping yourself down occasionally with a wet rag and irradiated water, with soap that had already been used by countless other people only if you were lucky. You stopped caring about it after a while, since everyone around you was in the same position and was just as filthy. 

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. The...the bathroom door does lock, from the inside, in case you were worried about...lack of privacy.” Vaulty scratched the back of his head awkwardly before he continued, “Want me to show you how to work the shower?” 

Skeev nodded, quickly asking for him to give him a minute while he tugged the road leathers on, before following Vaulty to the small but well appointed bathroom. By wasteland standards, it was almost spotlessly clean, just like the rest of the house. Roland showed him how to turn on the shower and adjust the temperature of the water, pointed out where a clean towel was and left him to it. Skeev locked the bathroom door, as much for the novelty of actually having real privacy as from any concerns about Roland trying anything.

‘Amazing’ didn’t even begin to describe how good the shower felt. Skeev simply stood under the running water for a good few minutes, letting it wash over him and relishing in the sensation of hot water on his skin and the warm steam filling his lungs with each intake of breath. Even though the doctor back in Diamond City must have cleaned him up a little to help prevent infection of his injuries, he’d been far from ‘clean’. He hadn’t even realised just how dirty he’d been until he found the bar of soap in the shower tray and started scrubbing himself down. The water that ran off down the drain had been a disgusting shade of brown when he rinsed his hair out. 

Skeev ran a hand across the new scar on his chest, examining it closely for the first time. With the last of the old dried blood washed off, he could see that the scar ran all the way along the right hand side of his sternum and down along the base of his rib cage. It was raised and still an angry red against his pale skin. Doc must have had him carved wide open, he thought, feeling a sudden wave of nausea at the mental image. Fuck. Not what he wanted to think about. He refocused on the feeling of the water on his skin, leaning against the shower wall with one arm while his other hand moved from the scar on his chest downward along his body until he took his manhood in hand and gave himself a few slow strokes. The door was locked, he was used to keeping himself quiet, and the thought of despoiling Vaulty’s pristine shower in such a way brought a petty little smile to his lips.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Roland left a pair of jeans and a t-shirt out on the spare bed for Skeev to wear when he got out of the shower. He still had the road leathers, but they weren’t the most comfortable things in the world and Roland wanted him to have the option of wearing something else - something that would help him blend in with the other settlers. 

After Skeev had shut down the Q and A session during dinner yesterday, Roland had spent most of the night awake, going through everything Skeev had told him and trying to work out what to do with the information. Some of what Skeev said stood out as of particular concern; the guy didn’t seem too have much of an issue with murder, and even though he might be reasonably stable otherwise, he’d admitted to being more impulsive (and thus dangerous) while under the influence. He’d need to be kept away from chems and any weaponry, for sure. Most of what he’d learned as a raider wouldn’t be of any use in settlement life, but the fact that he’d spent a lot of time scavenging for his gang was something useful. Scavvers played an important part in any settlement, especially one like Sanctuary that was growing fast and needed the resources.

Heading out of the house, Roland considered wether he should lock the place up, essentially trapping Skeev in like he had been at Home Plate. He decided instead to leave it unlocked, and use it as a test to see what Skeev would do. 

He had a lot he needed to organise. With help from Valentine he’d been able to track down the man who murdered Nora and stole his son. He’d accessed Kellogg’s memories and found out that his son was still alive - no longer a baby, but a boy. He’d missed all those early years. Shaun wouldn’t even know who he was. Still, he was alive, supposedly safe. All Roland had to do next was go into the most inhospitable, heavily irradiated place in the Commonwealth, find a man called Virgil and convince him to reveal the trick to infiltrating the Institute. He’d been working on the details before his encounter with Skeev’s gang.

“Was everything alright with your house guess last evening?” Codsworth almost made Roland jump when his cheery British accent sounded out beside him. He must have been deeper in thought than he’d realised, for the bot to sneak up on him like that. He tried not to let it show.

“Yeah. He’s...jumpy, not a fan of conversation, but really, he doesn’t seem so bad for a raider. I think...I think I’m right about him - he’s screwed up but I don’t think he’s actually Evil. From what little I’ve been able to get out of him, he’s as much a victim as a perpetrator. Which should make me feel better, because I think given time and care he’ll rejoin us civilised folks just fine but...” Roland sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve killed people, Codsworth, people just like him. If he hadn’t..” Roland’s mind went right back to the image of Skeev, splayed out on the ground and gasping for air, the way he’d struggled to say the words which had saved his life. His eyes, fading but still clinging to life, full of terror and desperation. “I would have killed him, like the rest. And I’d tell myself it was fine, that I was doing the Commonwealth a favour.”

Roland suddenly realised he’d said far more than he meant to, while Codsworth’s mechanical eyes watched him closely. Poor bot had probably just been expecting a ‘fine thanks for asking’, not a whole speech concerning his fear of losing his morality.

“Damn, sorry buddy. Didn’t mean to go off on you there, I just...My heads just pretty full right now.”

“Don’t you worry about it, sir. I’m here to serve, and if what you need is for me to listen, then I’m all ears. Figuratively speaking.”

“Thanks, Codsworth. Look, I’ve left Skeev back at the house and I told him you’d give him some space just until he gets a bit more used to you. So, don’t feel like I’m kicking out out, please, I promise I’m not. Just...maybe don’t just waltz in there without giving the guy a little warning first. If you happened to feel like standing guard outside of course, that would be just fine.” Roland hoped Codsworth understood the implication. 

Codsworth lifted an arm in a military style salute, “Rodger that sir.” The robot might have the body of a Mr. Handy, but he was loyal as a Mr. Gutsy for sure. 

Roland found Sturges in the settlement workshop shed. The handyman tended to spend most of his time there and was always busy working on something, his current project appearing to be a new defence turret. His latest finished work - decking out Roland’s power armour with lead plating (ready for his glowing sea expedition), was hooked up to a maintenance frame in the corner of the room. 

Sturges looked up when Roland entered the room and nodded to the suit.

“So, what do you think General?”

The job Sturges had done was brilliant. The modifications had been fitted so seamlessly that it was hard to even notice the changes initially. Roland beamed. “I think you might be my hero, Sturges.”

“Ah shucks. Now you’ve gone and made me blush.” Sturges came to stand next to the power armour, pointing out exactly where he’d made changes. “Now this is going to give you a decent level of rad shielding, but you still gotta be careful. The extra weight of the plating is gonna burn through a fusion core that bit quicker, so you need to keep an eye on your power levels. And if I were you, I wouldn’t skimp on the rad-x because even this...” He wrapped on the torso plate with his knuckles for emphasis. “It ain’t gonna stop all them rads.”

“Trust me, I’ve been stockpiling anti radiation meds since I found out about Virgil. I’ll be as careful as I can be. Not that I wouldn’t make a dashing ghoul, but I do like my hair. And skin. Plus, Valentine’s going to be with me. He’s been chasing up info on the glowing sea for the last couple of weeks, as soon as he gets back to me with that I’m all ready to go.”

“Well, I’m happy I could do my bit to help you. Still think you’re more than a little mad, but what you’re doing for your kid? It’s a hell of a thing. If anyone can pull this off it’s you.”

“Well. Now I guess it’s my turn to blush. Unrelated but, any idea where Preston might be? I think I’ve come up with a plan for Skeev.”

“The raider guy you brought in?”

Roland nodded, expecting Sturges to say something about how he didn’t think it was a good idea, but to his credit the mechanic just shrugged and started back to work on the new turret. “Expect Preston’s out by the gate, keeping watch.”

Preston took a heck of a lot of convincing, but Roland finally got him to allow Skeev a ‘trial run’ as a scavenger for the settlement, but only under several conditions. He was never allowed to carry a weapon inside the walls of Sanctuary and would only be allowed a basic melee weapon for self defence from critters while outside the gates; that he had someone with him at all times outside the settlement and that whoever agreed to be his scavenging partner do so with the full knowledge of who and what he was. The terms seemed completely reasonable in Roland’s mind, and he added that Skeev should be kept away from chems and strong alcohol too, just to be on the safe side. Preston admitted outright that he couldn’t keep watch of Skeev at all times, and that while Roland was away from Sanctuary someone would have to. Although he’d promised Skeev that he wouldn’t have to be around Codsworth until he’d gotten used to him, the guy was going to have to get used to the robot sharpish, because Codsworth was the only one Roland could think of who’d be able to take on that role. 

Nick Valentine arrived in Sanctuary that afternoon, a day earlier than expected. While Roland was pleased, since it meant he now had all the gear, information and the travelling partner that he needed to set out for the glowing sea, he couldn’t help but feel rushed. He would have liked another full day with Skeev, to show him around, get him settled in. He was tempted to put Valentine on hold for another day, but the prospect of being that much closer to his son, after having already been delayed by his decision not to kill Skeev in the first place, was too much of a pull. He was going to have to leave Skeev to it at some point anyway, and the guy would either sink or swim. As much as Roland wanted to help the raider, he had to be willing to help himself, too. 

By the time Roland had spoken with Nick, checked and double checked his gear, gone over the plan several times and told Preston, MacCready and Deacon about where he was going and roughly when to expect him back, half of the day had already gone. He went back to his house to find Codsworth in his usual position near the front door, once again making a show of trimming the very dead but very neat hedges. “Has our friend tried to leave?”

“No sir. I caught him watching me from the window, but when I waved to him, he vanished out of sight. Quite a curious fellow, that one.”

Roland found it hard to suppress a laugh. He knew Codsworth had decent enough combat abilities, but anyone that actually knew him (provided they weren’t hostile) had no reason at all to be afraid of the robot. Heck, as far as robots went, Codsworth was an adorable bundle of wires and joy. Though Roland had to admit, he was probably biased in his assessment.

He let himself into the house, but didn’t see Skeev anywhere in the main room. For a moment his stomach twisted with concern that perhaps he’d found another way to sneak of the house - even though Roland was sure he’d secured the place well enough that it only had the one entrance and exit - but to his relief, he found the younger man in the spare bedroom he’d spent last night in. He was wearing the jeans and t-shirt Roland had left out for him, laying propped up against a pillow on the bed and was flicking through the pages of one of the Grognak comics Roland usually left in the lounge. 

“I thought you couldn’t read?”

Skeev looked up from the comic to meet Roland’s gaze, not seeming concerned to see Roland standing in the open doorway. “Can’t. The pictures are cool though.”

“Everything alright while I was out?”

“Sure. Other than your creepy robot spying on me, and being bored outta my skull.”

“Codsworth? He says he waved at you. That’s hardly spying. He was being friendly.”

Skeev grunted and sat up, tossing the comic book down on the bedside table. “Thought he was going to stay away from me.”

“He has, he’s not come in the house, right? But..er...about that...” Roland tried to think of the best way to tell Skeev he’d have to go back on his promise and how to say he was leaving for a while without making the guy feel that he was being abandoned in hostile territory. “You remember I told you about my son being kidnapped? Well, I’ve got a lead on him, but it means I need to head out for a while. It shouldn’t take me more than a week, and while I’m gone I’ve organised some work for you, so you don’t get too bored, and it will help you find your place here. But...I need to leave someone to keep an eye on you and well...Codsworth is the only one who is in a position to do that.”

Skeev visibly stiffened, his face going slightly paler. “No way. You told me you weren’t going to force me to be around that thing.”

“I know, and honestly I thought I’d have more time to get you used to him, but that’s not how it’s worked out. So. You and him are going to have a crash course on how to be civil with each other.”

“....Do I really have to be around that thing? They...they really freak me out, ok? I lost a friend because one of those things half fucking decapitated him with that buzzsaw they got. Not that I think your human buddies out there wouldn’t happily shoot me, but at least they’d have a reason for it. A robot can just...blow a fuse or something and decide it wants you dead.” Skeev was scratching a spot of skin on his elbow hard enough for it to have gone red. Talking about himself made him so uncomfortable, and Roland felt another pang of guilt for the way he was forcing all of this onto him.

“I’m sorry, Skeev. I’m sorry that you lost a friend like that, it must have been horrible. But Codsworth isn’t some dodgy old bot that’s been wandering the wastes and taking constant damage without repairs for ages, and he’s programmed to only ever use violence as a last resort. He isn’t going to hurt you, unless you were to force him to defend himself or the other folks here. I trusted him with my baby boy. You really think I’d do that if I thought there was even the slightest chance of him being dangerous?” 

“How am I supposed to know? Anyway, you said that was what, two hundred years ago? He could have a total screw loose by now. He sure as hell talks like he does.”

“Sturges checked him over a little while ago, ran all the diagnostics on him that he could. He’s fine. The voice, well, he’s always been like that. It’s just part of how he was designed. I think it was supposed to make him seem sophisticated, or something. I know I’m asking a lot of you Skeev, and even if you don’t believe me, I Am sorry that this is all happening so fast for you. But if you stick with this, I promise it will pay off. You will have a home here. You just need to build up trust with the folks here.”

Skeev let out a hollow, humourless laugh. “You make it sound like I have a choice about any of this. Be honest Vaulty. I do things your way, or I’m dead. You can dress it up however you like, but that’s the truth, isn’t it? You want to make your robot pal my guard, fine. Don’t expect me to like it, but I won’t fight you on it. You want me to scav to earn my place here. Fine, whatever. And hey, maybe these people will magically accept me one day. Or maybe you and them will decide I’m too much trouble and do me in anyway. Just don’t keep telling me that you’re doing all this to ‘help’ me while you still have a gun to my back.”

As much as Roland hated to admit it, Skeev had a damn good point. He clenched his jaw, set his face into the coldest expression he could muster. He’d never really wanted to hold Skeev hostage, it played all sorts of havoc with his moral compass, but if he had to, to save the guy from himself, then didn’t that make it the right thing to do?

“Yeah. You’re right. I’m not giving you much of a choice. But is it really so different than what so many others face? They either earn their way in a settlement or they risk life alone in the wastes and wind up dying before their time. Or maybe like you, they end up in a raider gang and live short, damaged little lives where they never get to feel comfort, or safety, or true kinship. Nobody gets to have the life they deserve anymore, the bombs stole that from all of us. If you really, honestly believe that what I’m offering you here isn’t worth some effort, then maybe I’d have been better leaving you for dead.” Roland hated saying that. It cut him up inside because he knew it would upset Skeev. It might backfire, but what else could he do? Maybe because Skeev had never known real kindness, he could only respond to harshness.

For a moment, it looked like Skeev was going to get aggressive - eyes burning with rage, squaring his shoulders and clenching his fists, but he relaxed after a moment and looked away. “...I...I get what you’re saying. I...look, I’m just not used to this. Being treated like I...like I might be someone worthwhile. And if I really might end up with a life here?...I don’t hate the idea. Hell, this house of yours? Guys I used to run with would give their right nut to stay in place like this. I’ll do my best to make this work. I’ll even tolerate the robot.”

Roland wasn’t sure if he believed in God or not, but in that moment he thanked whatever deity had orchestrated that response from the ex-raider. He got though to him. It probably would have been a better idea to keep the tough guy ‘I-Don’t’-Care’ thing going, but it just wasn’t Roland. Before he could stop himself he’d grabbed Skeev in a bear hug and was smiling like a loon. “See, that’s what I wanted to hear!” 

Skeev tensed in his arms, obviously not sure at first what Roland was doing, but he seemed to realise after a moment that he wasn’t actually being attacked - just hugged. Though he didn’t return the hug and instead stood there completely still and silent, he didn’t push Roland away. When Roland became aware of the fact he was probably making the poor guy really uncomfortable, he let go and gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. Skeev was staring at him with those lovely grey-green eyes full of confusion and...something else, though it was hard to tell what. 

“I was going to suggest you move into the communal bunkhouse, but, since you like it so much here, and because you’re going to be putting up with Codsworth, you can stop here while I’m away, if you like. While I’m gone, think of it as your home. You can have full run of the place.”

“...Seriously? You...you ain’t worried I’ll go though all your stuff and steal things?”

“Er...well...Obviously I’d prefer if you didn’t do that. But...I’m asking you to put a lot of trust in me. So I’m going to put some trust in you, in return.” 

Skeev only responded with a nod, and a barely audible ‘ok’. Roland really hoped that his speechlessness was a good sign, but he did sleep reasonably content that night with the solid hope that things were headed in the right direction.

In the morning, before meeting with Nick to head out, Roland mediated a conversation between Skeev and Codsworth, where Skeev explained his fear to Codsworth and Codsworth gave his solemn vow that he meant Skeev no harm. It wasn’t the Declaration of Independence or anything, but at least it was a reasonably civil agreement.


	8. A bad day to be a bug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings - mild sexual content, swearing, mild gore

Skeev found the idea of scavenging for Sanctuary annoying at first - he hadn’t asked to come here, why should he be forced to work for a settlement full of people that didn’t even want him around? It wasn’t like he could have refused, though, and it did mean that at least he probably wouldn’t be kicked right back out into the wastes to fend for himself if Vaulty didn’t come back from whatever quest he’d gone off on. He’d heard rumours that he’d gone off into the glowing sea, but surely not even Vaulty was mad enough to go there - though Roland had never given him details and Codsworth was tight lipped about it. Besides, it did give him an excuse to spend time outside the settlement walls and do something that felt somewhat familiar away from Vaulty’s creepy robot, who hung around the house all day doing basically nothing but monitor him, from what he could tell. It didn’t try to talk to him much, which he was grateful for. Bad enough getting stuck with him in the first place.

Greg, a mustachio’d older guy he’d been assigned to help, was easy enough to get along with as it turned out. Like everyone else in Sanctuary, he’d been apprehensive about having Skeev around, but he hadn’t outright objected to being partnered up with him for scavenger runs. He was a laid back type and although he wasn’t really at ease around Skeev, after a week of successful scav runs, he’d started to treat Skeev less like he was some wild animal and more like a ‘work colleague’, or maybe an ‘associate’? Skeev wasn’t sure what he classed as now, really. What he was doing wasn’t all that much different in some ways to what he’d done before, except now he was mostly combing through decrepit pre-war structures rather than raided settlements (and of course, strictly no intimidation, theft or other banditry allowed). 

Running away during one of the runs had crossed Skeev’s mind, of course. Even though Greg was armed with a pipe gun, and he’d only been allowed a tire iron, he could probably give the old timer the slip. The thought wasn’t so appealing now as it had first been. Yeah, the people in Sanctuary didn’t want anything to do with him, for the most part, but he was well fed and living more comfortably than he ever had before thanks to the ridiculous generosity of Vaulty. Only an idiot would give up what he’d got here. The only real kicker? He had next to no freedom. He couldn’t leave Sanctuary unless he was with Greg on a scav trip, didn’t feel comfortable enough around the settlers to join them when they congregated in the evening to drink and socialise, couldn’t get his hands on any chems and only the occasional bottle of shitty watered down booze to take the edge off. Vaulty hadn’t even been around to bother him with stupid questions. Fuck, Skeev was actually missing having the blue suit wearing asshole around. Vaulty was weird, and he asked things he had no right to ask about...but he treated Skeev like he was an actual person. Even though he’d almost killed him, after that, Roland had been nothing but kind. Kinder than anyone had ever been to him, even Roach - seemingly for no reason other than he just...wanted to be nice. It was frustrating, and it was really starting to bother Skeev that he couldn’t get that stupidly figure-hugging vault suit and it’s stupidly nice owner out of his head. 

Greg and he were currently going through an old shipping yard not too far out from Sanctuary. Most of the smaller items of salvage had already been stripped out, but there were still a few larger items that they could haul back to the settlement between them. While moving some crates around, Skeev spotted an old safe that had been hidden behind them. It was unopened and still locked, which might mean it still had something good inside it. Wasn’t rare to find guns, ammo, sometimes even meds in those things, so Skeev asked Greg for a bobby pin and began working on the lock. He’d always had quick fingers, and he hadn’t come across many locks in his life that he couldn’t crack.

Greg was standing a little ways behind him, making out like he was inspecting some of the crates they’d just moved but clearly keeping an eye on Skeev in case there was anything in that safe that he shouldn’t get his hands on. Skeev himself, on his knees in front of the safe, was so entirely focused on working the lock that he didn’t see the radroach crawl out of a pile of rubble next to the safe and so had next to no time to react before it flung itself right at his face. 

“FUCK!” The lockpick flew from his fingers and was lost somewhere in all the debris covering the floor. Greg - a man with somewhat slow reactions at the best of times - backed up in surprise and managed to fall backwards over a crate. With one hand trying to grapple the mutated insect off of his face, Skeev’s other reached out to find his tire iron. Managing to grab the weapon from where it sat next to the safe, he managed to pry the roach off and fling it to the ground, proceeding quickly to pummel it with the iron. 

“Fucking...little...piece of shit!” He screamed at the creature as he rained blow after blow upon it, continuing long after it was clearly already dead.

“I’m pretty sure you done killed it already, you keep going like that you’re going to do yourself an injury.” Greg had gotten back to his feet and was staring at him, clearly somewhat disturbed by Skeev’s outright display of violence. 

Skeev finally stopped smashing at the bug, which was almost entirely obliterated into a mess of guts and shell fragments. He was covered in gore, bits of radroach splattered across his hands, his torso, his face. Clumps of it stuck in his hair.

“You must really hate bugs, huh?” 

Skeev didn’t actually hate bugs. They were more of an annoyance than anything, most of the time anyway. His outburst though, hadn’t really been about the overgrown cockroach. It took him a moment of catching his breath, knuckles still white as they gripped the tire iron, to realise that the bug attack was just the final straw that pushed him over the edge. Everything that had happened to him recently had caused the pressure to build in him until it he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He’d had next to none of his old coping mechanisms to help him deal with the stress - no chems, no drunken fistfights, no sex. Jerking off in a hot shower could only do so much when your whole life had been turned upside down and you ended up surrounded by people who at best only just tolerated the fact that you even existed.

He finally looked away from what was left of the bug and over at Greg. The guy had his hand on his pistol, ready to draw it if Skeev turned the tire iron on him. He found himself wondering, if that bug hadn’t just made the worst mistake of its life, would it just have been a matter of time until he decided to cave one of the settlers heads in instead because he got sick of the way they looked at him? It wasn’t like he really wanted to, but...fuck. Was this whole ‘new start’ thing always going to feel like this? Like it was just a matter of time before he fucked up and got himself killed because he was just another dumb fucking raider with no idea how to behave around ‘normal’ people?

Skeev dropped the tire iron. No point freaking old Greg out anymore than he already was. He tugged his shirt off, turned it inside out and used it to wipe the worst of the gore off of himself, grumbling under his breath. “Urg...Gross.”

Greg visibly relaxed. “That’s going to take some washing out.”

“Yeah...” Skeev took a deep breath, composed himself and looked back over to the safe which had originally got his attention, giving it a kick. “You got another bobby pin? Really want to see if this thing has anything in it that was worth fucking up my clothes for.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________

When Roland returned to Sanctuary, Nick Valentine by his side, power armour shaking the ground slightly as he walked, he was greeted by the usual cluster of people happy to see him. He removed the power armour helmet and tucked it under his arm so he could speak to folks without a mask of metal in the way. It was nice to know that he was well liked, but it still felt strange to be so ‘popular’. He imagined this must have been a bit like being a celebrity was back in the old days, when people flocked to have things signed by the people they heard on the radio or saw on the television. The closest Roland had ever come to that was during the military parades, but back then he was just another anonymous soldier in the ranks with hundreds of others. Now he was ‘the General’, and everyone seemed to think he could fix every problem they had. And stupidly, he wanted to. 

Above all else though, right now what he really wanted was a little down time to recuperate. Calling the glowing sea ‘Hell’ was an understatement. If Nick hadn’t spent all the time he had gathering intel on the area for them, they may never have found the strange cult that lived out there, basking in the ‘glow’ like they were on some nice beach vacation. Without their help, they’d never have found Virgil’s secluded cave. Roland wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been expecting from the man, but him being a super mutant had definitely not been on his list of possibilities. After their chat, he felt closer than he had in a while to finding Shaun, but the path there was still going to be long and arduous one. He needed a courser chip. As if battling his way though the glowing sea hadn’t been enough of a challenge, he now had to to locate and kill an Institute super-soldier. He would definitely need help from a few of his new friends for that.

“General! Glad to see you made it back. And in one piece!” Preston cut his way through the crowd of admirers to greet him directly.

“You can thank Nicky here for that little miracle. I’d still be wandering around out there if not for his help.”

The synth detective had a slight smile of appreciation on his face for the compliment, but was as humble as ever when he replied. “I have a feeling you’d have done just fine even without me. I’d love to know what they were feeding you soldiers back before the war, you made it all look a little too easy.”

“Heh. Sure didn’t feel easy. Besides, the power armour did most of the work. Between your sharpshooting and this metal beasty, I was basically just a passenger along for the ride.”

“Umhumm. If you say so.” Nick gave Roland a look that was hard to read. Not that all of his expressions weren’t a little hard to read anyway, given his plastic face.

“This place still looks ok. Nothings on fire anyway, so I take it everything’s been ok?” Roland was perhaps a little too eager to move the conversation along.

“Yes General. Since I’m assuming your mission was a success, perhaps a small celebration would be in order tonight? You look like you could use a little R and R.”

“Damn, it’s that obvious? Here was me thinking I still looked good for a two-hundred something year old vet.”

Preston flustered, his cheeks tinging slightly pink. “I didn’t mean that to come out that way General! I just meant that maybe...”

Roland laughed and held up an oversized power armour clad hand to cut him off. He forgot sometimes just how easy it was to fluster the guy with anything even remotely flirtatious. “I know Preston, I’m just yanking your chain. Sorry about that. No offence taken. I really like the sound of that.” He finally decided to broach the topic that had been bothering him since he’d left for the glowing sea. When he arrived and found everything looking normal, he’d relaxed considerably - surely if something had gone badly wrong with Skeev, it would have been immediately obvious and Preston would have said something right away.

“Hey, is Skeev about?”

“He’s still out scavenging with Greg. They usually get back sometime before dinner. They’ll be back before if gets dark out in any case.”

“How’s he been?”

“I haven’t had any complaints about him, but he keeps to himself. Pretty much stays in that house of yours on his own save for Codsworth, unless he’s out scavenging. From what Greg tells me he’s a good scavver, has an eye for finding things other people would overlook.”

Roland let out the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding, incredibly relieved. “I’m glad to hear that he’s not run off or caused any trouble, but I was hoping he might socialise more. You know, join in with the community? I’m probably just expecting way too much though...Everything else been ok here?”

“All quiet here sir, which is how I like it.” Preston nodded. “Honestly, the fact that a raider like Skeev has been willing to go along with this whole ‘rehabilitation’ plan of yours in the first place is pretty darn amazing. Truth be told, I’ve been just waiting for him to turn on us, but, he hasn’t. I don’t know if he’s different somehow to most raiders, or if he’s only doing this because it was you who asked him to, but you shouldn’t be too worried that he’s not socialising yet. If he carries on like he has been, then it will come. You’ve already pulled off something of a miracle with him, so don’t knock it, ok?”

Roland gave a thankful, tired smile. “Thanks, Preston. I’ve been worrying since I stepped out of the gate that I was making some horrible mistake leaving him here. If I didn’t have so much faith in you, I never would have. I can’t even tell you how relived I am that everything’s been ok. Listen, I really need to get out of this armour and wash up, you mind if I catch up with you guys later?”

Nick and Preston both gave their acknowledgments, leaving Roland to make this way past the thinning group of settlers to store the suit back at the workshop and his weapons at the settlement armoury. He didn’t hate power armour as such (it had probably saved his life more than once), but it started to get pretty uncomfortable after a while, especially when it was warm out and Roland really didn’t fancy turning up to any celebratory get together while stinking of the sweat he’d been stewing in all day. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Skeev heard the rumours about Vaulty being back in town as soon as he got back to Sanctuary. He and Greg had brought back a decent haul - not only had they got some decent wood planks from the old crates and several good sized pieces of sheet metal from the delivery vehicles, but Skeev had found a nicely modded 10mm pistol (which Greg had quickly taken charge of) and several Stimpacks in the old safe. Once he was done helping Greg store everything behind the workshop ready for Sturges to go through, he headed straight back ‘home’ to Vaulty’s place. He wasn’t sure if now that Roland was back it meant he’d be wanting the place to himself again and Skeev would have to move into the communal bunkhouse or not. He was going to miss having his own shower if that was the case.

He walked into the home to find Roland sat on the couch, in lively conversation with Codsworth. For once, he wasn’t in his signature blue vault suit, but instead wore a plain t-shirt and cargo pants. Somehow, it made him look that bit more human. Roland turned his head when he heard the door open behind them and gave Skeev a genuinely stellar smile. 

“Speak of the devil! We were just talking about you!”

Skeev wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious, but he sort of froze in the doorway awkwardly. “Er...yeah?”

“Don’t look so worried, Skeev. It was all good. In fact I’ve heard nothing but good things about you since I got back.”

“...Really?” Skeev hadn’t been expecting that. He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting but finding out that people had been saying positive things about him was well...unexpected.

Roland nodded, his smile not faltering, all perfect white teeth and charm. God, even out of the vault suit the guy looked too damn perfect to be real. Nobody Skeev had ever met before looked quite so...undamaged, as Roland did. Was everyone back before the war so good looking, or was Roland just an unusually good looking guy even then? And why the hell was Skeev thinking about Vaulty like this? Fuck.

“Cool. You mind if I use the shower? Got bug guts all over me.” Yeah. Real smooth, Skeev. 

“Oh, sure.” Vaulty hadn’t seemed to have noticed the state Skeev was in until he pointed it out - he was still filthy, wearing his disgustingly dirty shirt again even though it was crusty with insect blood because he’d not liked the way people stared at the huge scar on his chest when he’d come back into the settlement. “I hope I’ve left you enough hot water, not long had one myself. Got a bit ripe in that power armour.”

“Thanks.” Skeev didn’t want to comment any more than that, half worried he might say the wrong thing and half just wanting to get away from Vaulty before he started imagining the guy getting all sweaty in that vault suit of his. God dammit. This was why he liked chems like daytripper - they helped keep him calm when he couldn’t get relief fighting with or fucking some other guy (and it felt like a long time since he’d been able to do either). Stopped his dick from being, well, such a dick. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Roland waited until he heard the shower running before bringing Skeev back up in conversation, not wanting to be overheard.

“He’s still terrified of me, isn’t he?”

“Sir?”

“Skeev. You saw how he was when he came in. The guy could hardly even speak to me before running away. I’d hoped he might have gotten over that.” Roland sighed and lent his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t really say he blamed Skeev. It wasn’t like he’d spent a huge amount of time around Roland, and he hadn’t been mixing with the folks in Sanctuary beyond doing his scavver duties. Maybe he was being stupid for caring what the guy thought of him, after all, as long as he stayed on the straight and narrow and settled in to his new life, did it really matter if he didn’t like Roland? Or even that he was afraid of him? It wasn’t Skeev’s responsibility to satisfy Roland’s almost pathological need to be liked by everyone. Still...

“I’m going to invite him to join the rest of us for a drink tonight. Preston said he’s going to have a little get together to celebrate me getting in and out of the glowing sea without growing any new limbs. Maybe not his exact phrasing, but, close enough.”

“But sir, you were quite insistent on keeping Mr. Skeev away from alcoholic beverages!”

“Yeah, I know. But we’d all be there to keep an eye on him. And he needs to socialise. He’s not going to to fit in here until he does. I can’t invite him to a party and then tell him he can’t have a drink, that would just be rude.”

“Hmm. Well, if you think it wise sir...May I ask, does the invitation extend to myself? I realise I can’t actively partake in the revelries of course, but I would enjoy the company.”

“Of course Codsworth! Man I feel bad you even felt you had to ask. Wouldn’t be the same without you.” If Codsworth could have smiled, Roland was sure he would have been beaming.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

A small group had gathered round underneath the awning of the bungalow opposite Roland’s, sitting on deck chairs in a companionable roughly crescent pattern. A grill has been set up at the front of what had probably been the carport, and the enticing smell of meat roasting wafted through the air, alongside the sound of cheerful conversation. Skeev recognised most of the people there, though he couldn’t say he knew them since he’d never had a real conversation with any of them. Roland’s second in command Preston looked more casual than the other times Skeev had seen him, his distinctive hat and coat absent. MacCready was manning the grill, back facing the street so he could chat with the others as he cooked, his cap still firmly on his head even though he wasn’t wearing his duster. Sturges, the mechanic he delivered scrap to, looked the same as he always did, handyman jumpsuit and all. The one that stood out the most was the synth, his glowing yellow eyes standing out bright against the growing dark of evening. Vaulty had told Skeev, briefly, that there might be a synth at the gathering. He’d said he was fine and practically begged Skeev not to freak out when he saw him. Apparently, like Codsworth, the machine man was fine and someone Roland classed as a trusted friend - he’d been the one who’d gone along with him on his last mission. Vaulty had weird friends. 

He didn’t really want to be here. He would have been fine sticking to his usual routine - getting home, jerking off in the shower and then curling up in his room to sleep while pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist - but Vaulty had been very insistent that Skeev join them. Even said he’d be fine to have a couple of drinks, so long as he kept himself under control. He said he ‘felt bad’ that Skeev had spent so much time on his own and reminded him how important socialising was if wanted to find his place here. Roland was right, of course, but trying to fit in was never something that came easily for Skeev. Most kids probably leaned their social skills from their parents, or picked them up from the folks around them. While they were learning how to read, and write, and how to behave like real human beings, Skeev was learning to do exactly what he was told, when he was told. Didn’t matter if a slave was smart, or socially adept, all they needed was to be able to follow orders. And you learned quick, because those who didn’t didn’t last very long. Raiders didn’t exactly follow social norms anyway, and he grew to understand how to behave around them. Never quite fit in even then, but it had never really mattered.

“Was starting to wonder if you were going to join us, General.” Sturges greeted them first, holding up a beer and pointing to an open chair to his left. 

“Like I’d miss a party held in my honour, Sturges.”

“Ever the humble man, aren’t you Roland.” The creepy synth man replied.

“Of course. I’m probably the most humble man there has ever been.” Roland went and sat on the chair Sturges had pointed out, greeting MacCready as he passed by him.

“And I take it you must be Skeev. I’m Nick Valentine. Don’t let the wires and metal fool you, I’m a detective, not an Institute lacky. But I’m hoping our friend over there’s already mentioned me?” The synth was focused on Skeev now, the yellow eyes watching him making him feel as though he was being mentally dissected by their owner.

Skeev nodded, catching himself staring into the missing portion of Nick’s plastic face before looking down at the ground, mindful of what Vaulty had said about not freaking out.

MacCready turned his head from the grill to look Skeev over, the same sour look on his face as he’d had when they first met. If this had been a raider gathering, Skeev would have asked him what his problem was and likely started a fight, because the sniper was definitely the sort of asshole who just begged to get punched in that scrunched up face of his. But this wasn’t a raider gathering, it was a nice little civilised get together and that sort of behaviour wouldn’t fly here. MacCready didn’t say anything to him, he just turned back to watching the meat cook on the grill. Skeev ignored him right back, and went to sit beside Vaulty on another open chair.

Roland engaged in fantastical story telling while the group drank, telling them all about what had happened while he was in the glowing sea, pulling in everyones almost undivided attention. Some of it seemed way too unbelievable - like the Institute scientist that they had gone there to find turning out to be a super mutant - but Nick Valentine backed him up on everything when someone (usually MacCready) called bullcrap on his story. Things after that mostly descended into everyone telling their own stories while the drinks flowed and MacCready passed out the meat he’d grilled. It was almost like watching his old gang again, but these guys didn’t try to knock each other’s teeth out for saying the wrong thing to the wrong person.

Skeev nursed the Gwinnett he’d been given by Roland, not trusting himself to down it like he wanted to, knowing that if he did he’d just want another, and another, and he might not be able to stay civil if he got too drunk. He stayed silent for the most part, listening to the others talking, responding as best he could whenever he was directly addressed. Lucky for him, everyone was mostly focused on Roland. It was easy to understand why they would be, ok course. The guy had charisma and he chatted and even flirted jokingly in a way that was so incredibly natural and easy that it made Skeev slightly jealous. Must have been nice to have skills like that. To have everyone like you.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________

By the time the evening wound up and everyone started heading off for bed, Roland was very clearly drunk. Between himself and Codsworth, Skeev had been able to half walk, half carry Roland back to his house. Vaulty didn’t seem like the type who’d drink to excess in the way that he had tonight, but then again Skeev hadn’t spent that much time with him, so maybe this wasn’t all that unusual for him. So either he was a hypocrite, or he was trying to wash something away by drinking. 

“Damn Vaulty, how much did you drink?” Skeev said, helping the robot butler lower Roland safely down to sit on the couch once they’d made it inside.

“...A bit more than I should?” Roland had the sort of slightly dazed expression drunk people tended to get. 

Skeev shook his head, standing and stretching his spine a little since it felt like having Vaulty’s not inconsiderable form lean on him had pushed a disk out of whack. “Yeah. Just a bit.” 

“Hey, you going to sit with me for a bit?”

“I’ve been sitting with you guys for the last few hours. Aren’t you tired of me yet?”

“Naah. Come on, just sit and talk with me for a bit. I’m not quite ready to hit the hay yet. So please, just stay with me for a bit.” Roland shifted gracelessly over to the side and patted the empty seat next to him. “I’d offer you a seat too Codsworth, but...you don’t have a butt. No sitting for you.”

If Codsworth was amused, or offended, by Roland’s comment on his lack of an ass, it didn’t show. “Actually sir, if you are going to be alright for the night, I would like to enter power conservation mode until the morning. I haven’t shut down to run a full self diagnosis for the last week, and I do like to keep myself in tip-top shape, as best as I can.” 

“No problem, Codsworth.” 

Codsworth made a move that was probably his version of a nod of acknowledgment and floated off behind the breakfast bar in the kitchen, vanishing out of sight when he withdrew his arms and landed on the ground, going silent and dark.

Skeev probably should just have ignored Roland and gone to bed himself - let the Vaulty crash on the couch for the night and sober up. But then Roland’s blue eyes turned to him and went all puppy-dog and he decided he could stand to spend a little more time with the guy. It didn’t feel so awkward now that they weren’t surrounded by other people.

He plonked down onto the soft cushions and Roland gave him a silly little drunken grin and an equally ridiculous exclamation of ‘yay!’

“You’re so fucking weird, Vaulty.”

“Thanks. That’s my second most commonly received compliment. After ‘your ass looks great in that vault suit’.”

Skeev actually snorted out a laugh before he could stop himself. “People really tell you that?”

“Oh yeah. Can’t say I blame them. Vault suits are great at displaying a persons best ass-ets” Vaulty started laughing at his own terrible pun.

Skeev tried to hide his smile behind a cringe. “Jesus that was awful. Did people actually find shit like that funny back in the day?” 

Roland pulled an exaggeratedly sad face. “No. I was an unsung comic genius of my time.”

“Suuure. I believe you.” Skeev replied, incredulous. For a moment, there was a comfortable sort of silence between the two men, before Roland spoke up again.

“I’m really glad you’re still here, Skeev.”

“...Yeah?”

“Umhmm. I was out in the glowing sea, getting munched on by ferals and I kept thinking ‘I hope Skeev is doing ok’. Had visions of coming back to find you’d burned the place down, or run off or something. When I got back and everything was fine, and you were fine...it was a big relief you know?”

Skeev felt something tighten in his chest. Although he couldn’t say for sure that he entirely trusted Roland, he had come to believe that the guy didn’t have any ill intent towards him - that he really had spared him and was helping him just because he wanted to. It was still so hard to understand though. He sighed deeply, eyes downcast. “Why do you care, Vaulty? I mean, really? Why does someone like you care about what happens to someone like me?”

Vaulty was silent for a moment before he answered. “Because....well, I just do. And I really, really wanted to save at least one person...I’ve killed more people since I left the vault than I ever did when I was in the military, you know that? I don’t even know if I’d recognise myself if pre-war me met the now me. Did that make sense? Urgh. I shouldn’t mix booze and ethics debates.”

“...What?” Skeev blinked, not entirely understanding.

“I want you to be ok, because I want to be ok. Get it? This whole thing...” Roland pointed back and forth between them. “It’s me, trying to prove to myself that I’m not a monster.”

Another period of silence, not so comfortable as before. Roland had sunk down into the chair, looking like he was trying to curl in on himself. “You can say what you’re feeling, you know. I’m not going to be mad. It’s ok if you hate me.”

Skeev looked up at that, finding he couldn’t make eye contact with Roland because the guy had put his head in his hands. “What are you going on about, Vaulty?” 

Roland lifted his head up, just enough to speak. “Are you happy here? I’ve forced you into this and maybe I was wrong to. I don’t know. Damn it. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing, you know? I just don’t want to fuck the world up more than it already is. And I know I’ve fucked your life up, and I am so sorry...” His face went back down into his hands.

Skeev wasn’t equipped to handle emotional displays like this. He’d always shoved his own feelings away in a box inside his head somewhere and usually did a good job of keeping them there. “Oook. So you’re the sad drunk type. Look, Vaulty. Am I totally happy here? No. Do I still hate what happened to the rest of my crew? Sometimes, yeah. But that doesn’t really matter. I’m here now. I can’t go back and change anything and neither can you. I don’t hate you. I don’t get you, because you’re freaking weird as hell, and you piss me off sometimes, but...I don’t hate ya.”

“Is there anything I can do, to make you happier here?”

“Chems still out of the question?” Roland nodded, brow furrowing. “Then shit man, I don’t know. Be nice if I could unwind somehow. And since I can’t get into fights, get high, or fuck, doesn’t really leave me many outlets. I appreciate what you tried to do today by letting me hang out with your friends, but I’m just not much of a people person.”

Vaulty was looking at him again, one eyebrow raised, head slightly tilted. “Hey, I never said you couldn’t...have sexual relations. As long as it’s all consensual it’s your business. It’s a good way to ease tension.”

“Heh. Yeah. ‘Cos all the decent looking guys round here would just be so eager to take the raider to bed with them.” Skeev replied, making no effort to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

“Have you even tried asking anyone?”

“Why, you interested?” Skeev meant it as a joke, really - an offhand comment. But then Roland blushed, bit his lip, and looked away coyly. No...no way. Sure, Vaulty openly flirted with guys, but he had had a wife, had a kid. Was it really possible that he might actually be interested?

“Wait..You’re into chicks, right?”

Vaulty shrugged “Well, yeah. But I like guys too.”

Holy Shit. Holy fucking shit. It wasn’t like Skeev had the excuse of being drunk, so he should have known better than to take the conversation any further. Maybe if he had been a patient man, or a sane man, or really anyone other than himself, he’d have dropped the issue. But Skeev was curious and had a bad case of blue balls (when he’d showered earlier he hadn’t ‘relieved’ himself in the usual way, too bothered by the thought of Roland and Codsworth having a conversation in the next room), and what was the worst that would happen? Vaulty would reject him?

“Are you tense, Vaulty? You maybe wanna ease that tension?”

Roland met his gaze, and the look in his eyes, there was no mistaking that it was interest. As quick as their eyes had met though, Vaulty looked away again “...I...Skeev, you know you don’t owe me that, right? Because I’d never do that to you. I wouldn’t...”

“Yeah, I know. I wasn’t asking because I think I owe you it or anything. I was asking because I wanted to know if you’d be interested. Maybe I’m wrong, but it seems to me like you’re all kinds of wound up too. Doesn’t mean anything more than two guys blowing off steam. But...only if you’re interested.”

“...I wouldn’t be using you?”

“We’d be using each other, Vaulty, that’s kinda the point.”

Vaulty had a very obvious moment of internal debate, then nodded. “...Ok.” 

“Yeah?”

Roland nodded again, the pink blush on his cheeks darkening. Skeev really hadn’t pictured the evening going this way. He couldn’t say that he was unhappy about how it was shaping up, though. “So, your room or mine?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone still reading. Kudos and/or comments much appreciated, I’d love to know your thoughts. Feel free to point out any mistakes you notice, I don’t always spot them all myself!


	9. Scales to weigh your heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings - explicit sex, consent issues, discussion of rape (no actual rape), swearing

Since Skeev’s bedroom was converted from the old utility room and only had a small single bed, Roland’s bedroom was the logical choice. Skeev had been in there once before, while Vaulty was gone and Codsworth was occupied with cooking, mostly out of innocent curiosity. Sure, he went through the guys stuff, but he left it all exactly the same as when he’d found it and didn’t take anything. There wasn’t anything interesting in there anyway, just clothes in the cupboards and bits of random junk. No weapons or armour pieces, so he clearly kept those somewhere else. There was a locked safe under the bed, but Skeev had left that alone.

Skeev had to help Roland get back up from the couch, but after that the guy managed to steady himself enough to make it to his room unaided, even if he did wobble a fair bit as he walked. Even though the cargo pants weren’t as flattering as the vault suit, Skeev couldn’t help but admire the guys ass as it swayed with his clumsy steps. Damn. This was actually happening.

Once inside the bedroom, Roland flicked on the bedside table lamp and pulled the ragged curtains over the rooms large windows (though it probably wouldn’t have mattered, they were mostly boarded up anyway) before turning to face Skeev, who shut the door behind them. He figured Vaulty was the kind who’d want the privacy of a closed door even though he was in own already private home, and Codsworth wasn’t likely to bother them since he was asleep, or dormant, or whatever the word for a not-currently-active robot was. 

“I...I haven’t...you know. Been with anyone, for a while...” Roland stood beside the bed, still blushing, looking way too shy for a guy who was normally so outgoing and flirtatious.

“Really? You have a whole settlement of people who think the sun shines outta your ass and you haven’t had offers from anyone?”

“Heh...I mean there’s been flirting sure, but no serious offers. I think maybe because I’m the General they think I’m untouchable or something...”

Skeev tilted his head, closing the gap between them. He reached out, laying one hand flat against Roland’s chest. He wasn’t used to the people he slept with being shy. If a raider was horny they didn’t usually care who knew and they sure as hell made it obvious to whoever they wanted to get with. Sex tended to be quick, dirty and aggressive, at least in Skeev’s experience. “Seems like I can touch you though, huh?”

Roland smiled and chuckled lightly. “Yep..” He placed one of his larger hands over the one Skeev had on his chest, rubbing his thumb across it almost affectionately.

Skeev didn’t do affection. He had no playbook for that sort of thing, no idea how he was supposed to react it. He used the hand on Roland’s chest to push him backwards, so the larger man fell back onto the bed. Roland blinked, looking confused for a moment before his face lit up with a cheeky little smile. Skeev felt a short, sharp little flutter in his chest before he pushed the feeling away. This was just a stress relief fuck, nothing more. Damn Vaulty being so fucking cute didn’t mean anything.

“So, you gonna take those clothes off or what?” Skeev asked, doing his best to hide his momentary fluster behind a tone of mild irritation.

With a slight chuckle Roland sat up and pulled his top off, tossing it at Skeev who swatted it away and down onto the floor. Was Vaulty usually like this in the bedroom, Skeev wondered briefly, or was the playfulness just the booze? The shyness had soon vanished, at least, so maybe that had been due to the booze.

Once Roland had gotten his shirt off and before he could start taking his pants off, Skeev climbed onto the bed himself and positioned himself so he was kneeling over Roland’s hips, one knee either side of the larger man, effectively pinning the guy and giving Skeev free reign to do as he pleased. He was sure Roland could have pushed him off and switched the roles around if he’d wanted to, but he seems content, laying back down flat on the bed. It shouldn’t have surprised Skeev that Roland was willing to be submissive - after all the guy always seemed eager to please, but it was still strange to him that a large, powerful man like Roland didn’t seem to want to be in control. It was the complete opposite to anything he’d experienced before. In raider ‘society’ if you were strong you had power, and you used that power to take whatever and whoever you wanted, when you wanted it - you’d never submit to someone ‘weaker’ than yourself, because if you did you lost your status. And Skeev, well he had never been powerful.

“God damn Vaulty, look at you...” Skeev let his hands gently explore Roland’s chest, enraptured with how smooth and incredibly perfect his skin was. There was no layer of grime, no rashes, burns, pockmarks, not even any visible scars on his torso. How the hell did anyone who’d spent any time out here - let alone gone into the glowing sea of all places - stay so fucking perfect? His muscles were well defined but didn’t bulge unnaturally like those of someone bulked up on buffout. Not much body hair. Just absolutely fucking gorgeous.

Roland had one arm down by his side, the other resting underneath his head, watching Skeev with drunken, needy eyes, just waiting for the smaller man to make his next move. So what if Skeev didn’t know exactly what he was doing because he’d never been the one in charge in situations like this, he’d been the one in Roland’s position enough to how things normally played out and what felt good. Being the one in charge, having (albeit temporary and permitted) power over the General of the Minutemen, the man who’d almost killed him, the man who had his whole Goddamn life in his hands...Fuck. Just that thought alone was enough to make his cock twitch and swell against his leg, still confined by the tight road leathers he’d had to wear tonight because his other clothes were still covered in bug guts.

Leaning down, Skeev kept one hand on Roland’s chest, the other reaching down to wrap around the wrist Roland had by his side, pinning it there. While rolling his hips forward against the other man’s, letting Vaulty feel his arousal, Skeev ran his tongue across Roland’s torso from the base of his ribcage and up along his sternum, mirroring the path of the scar he had on his own chest. Roland’s breathing was slightly unsteady, his eyes half lidded, but Skeev wanted more of a reaction from him. He focused his attention on Roland’s right nipple, licking and sucking on it gently at first, before progressing to not so gentle nibbles. This earned more of the reaction Skeev had been hoping for - Roland started to pant, then moan in earnest. Feeling confident, Skeev decided to push his luck and bit down on the overstimulated nipple - not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave a mark. Roland’s body jolted and tensed in surprise, but the delicious throaty moan he made and the way he pushed his hips up against Skeev’s betrayed just how much he’d liked that. Guess Vaulty liked a bit of pain with his pleasure. He repeated the process on the other nipple, until both were red and swollen.

Satisfied with the state he’d left Roland’s chest in, Skeev scooted backwards so he could get off the bed and stand. Roland gave a small whimper at the loss of contact that was somewhere between adorable and erotic, and moved to sit up.

“Nah ah. Stay there. Pants off.” Skeev smirked. His own hardness was almost painful as it strained against its confines, but he wanted Vaulty naked first. He wanted the power trip of being fully clothed while his partner lay waiting, stripped bare.

“Tease...” Roland grumbled, non the less obliging and undoing his cargo pants, staring to shimmy them down his hips when Skeev decided to make the process quicker by roughly tugging them the rest of the way down. Roland’s boots got in the way of them coming off altogether, and Skeev decided he didn’t have the patience to bother undoing those so the pants were just going to have to stay round the guys ankles. All that was left to protect Roland’s modesty were his thin white boxers, and those didn’t do much to hide how clearly excited he was. Skeev hummed in appreciation at the sight, actually licking his lips as he motioned to the boxers. “Those too...”  
Roland understood, somehow managing to blush even harder as he slid the boxers down.

Of course Vaulty had a god damn perfect dick. Circumcised, slightly above average length, average girth, pubic hair neatly trimmed, nicely sized balls. Unable to stand the pressure in his pants anymore Skeev undid them, freeing his own achingly hard cock. He grinned wider when he saw the shudder of anticipation than ran through Roland when his eyes fell on Skeev’s dick. 

“You like what you see, Vaulty?”

Roland nodded enthusiastically. Skeev grinned, spitting into his palm and stroking himself slowly. He had to admire Roland’s self control - he hadn’t touched himself once, despite his raging erection, and Skeev had a feeling that he wouldn’t unless he told him to. Crawling back onto the bed, Skeev deliberately kept his body from touching Roland’s, until the larger man whined again and actually put his arms around Skeev’s waist, giving his ass a firm squeeze. That was enough for Skeev to stop his teasing, and he lowered his body against Roland’s, pressing their erections together between their bodies.

Apparently that was enough to break Roland’s patience, because as soon as their naked lengths touched, he started rutting up against Skeev and used the hands on his ass to hold him as close as possible. Skeev rested his head against the juncture of the other mans neck and chest, panting hard, only able to stifle his own moans of pleasure from the years of experience keeping himself quiet, fucking his cock against Roland’s desperately. He managed to snake a hand between their bodies and wrap it around both of their cocks, his spit and their combined pre giving just enough lubrication to keep things comfortable. Given that his road leathers were rubbing against the bare skin of Roland’s chest and thighs, he probably should have been more worried about chafing the guys skin, but Roland didn’t seem to care about it.

“Fuck, Skeev!” Roland didn’t seem to care about how loud he was being either, moaning openly. Skeev wasn’t normally much for kissing - raiders didn’t tend to taste very good, what with bad teeth and chem breath, but he wanted to taste Vaulty. Lifting his head, he locked eyes with the man underneath him and pressed a desperate, messy kiss against his lips. Roland responded by opening his lips, tongue finding Skeev’s. The kiss was just pure passion, there was nothing graceful or delicate about it, and Skeev loved it.

“Ahh...Skeev, gonna...” Roland panted breaking the kiss, eyes closed, sweat drenching his face and his normally perfect hair. 

“Fuck yes Vaulty, come for me.” Skeev growled, somewhere in the back of his mind surprised to hear himself make a sound like that and by the wave of sheer desire and possessiveness that overcame him.

Skeev felt the unmistakable throb of Roland’s cock against his and the sudden sticky wetness of come spurt over his hand. As Roland’s hipped bucked with the aftershocks, he used the extra lubrication to pump them both hard with his hand until he came as well. It was quite possibly the most intense orgasm he’d ever had, at least that he could remember. It made the world go blank around him, his whole existence seemed to be only that intense wave of pleasure. 

For a moment, Skeev was utterly and completely contented, basking in the post-orgasm glow. When he regained his senses he found he was collapsed on top of Roland, head resting on his chest, Roland’s arms still wrapped around him, holding him and rubbing gentle circles on Skeev’s exposed lower back. It was...nice. Too close to a lover’s embrace, or what he imagined that would be like, to dare let continue though.

Skeev quickly moved to push himself up and off of Roland, briefly noting the mess they’d made, all over Roland’s stomach and Skeev’s road leathers. That was going to need wiping off before tomorrow... 

Roland rolled onto his side, watching Skeev as he tucked himself back into his pants, fastened them, and moved toward the door to leave. “You’re not going to stay for cuddles?”

Grunting, Skeev shook his head “I don’t do ‘cuddles’, Vaulty.” Of course Roland would be type who’d want to get all clingy after.

“Why not? You might find you like them.”

“Sorry Vaulty. I told you, this was just a bit of fun to blow off steam, that’s all. Night.” He didn’t look back as he let himself out and closed the door behind him, heading straight to the bathroom so he could wipe away the evidence of what they’d just done. He tried very hard not to imagine what it would be like just to lay curled up against Roland’s warm, perfect body and drift off to sleep. Getting too attached was stupid and never ended well anyway.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Roland woke with the mother of all headaches. It had been a while since he’d drunk as much as he had last night, and his body wasn’t as young and impervious to the effects as it had once been. He lay, head blank save for the pain, until memories from the previous night began to filter back.

Oh God. He’d slept with Skeev. After promising that he would never, ever use him like that, he’d gone and done it anyway. Shit. How could he have let himself do that? Just because he was drunk and desperate for affection, desperate to feel close to someone like that again, he’d gone and broken yet another promise he’d made to the man whose life he was supposed to be helping rebuild. A promise that he’d made to himself. Did this make him as bad as the raiders he’d killed? Worse, even?

Roland sat upright and swung his legs out of bed. The movement was too fast for his hungover brain and for a moment the room spun and he thought he might be sick. Once the feeling passed he stood, quickly realised he was still naked from the night before (he must have managed to finish undressing himself after Skeev walked out) and hastily pulled on his cargo pants that had lay crumpled on the floor by the bed. He had to see Skeev - he had to apologise to him, beg his forgiveness, promise that it would never happen again. Not that his promises were still likely to mean anything to Skeev at this point. He almost fell over his own feet in his rush to Skeev’s room, only to find that the younger man wasn’t there. Shit. Did he leave in the night?

He heard the unmistakable hum of his butler bot and stumbled though to the kitchen. 

“Codsworth, have you seen Skeev?”

“Yes sir, he left for work a little over an hour ago.”

“Left? What time is it?”

“Just gone Nine in the am, sir.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Mr. Skeev suggested you might benefit from a few extra hours of sleep.” 

“He did? How did he seem? Was he ok? Did he seem upset, angry?”

“He seemed his usual self, sir. Is everything alright?”

“...I don’t know. I hope so...”

Roland paced the front room for a moment. Maybe he was overreacting. From what he could remember (which he hoped was most of it) Skeev had been the one to suggest...getting physical...with each other in the first place. And he hadn’t seemed uncomfortable about what they’d done together at any time during it, though he practically ran away afterwards. But then, Skeev had made the first move back at Home Plate, too. He’d been so sure Roland would do it anyway, he’d offered himself up hoping to trade his dignity for his freedom. What if he’d just been doing the same thing last night? Only Roland hadn’t said no this time, and now Skeev had proof of what he’d probably suspected all along - that Roland only wanted to use him. Even though Skeev never explicitly stated as much, it was pretty damn obvious he’d been abused in such as way before. 

Feeling nausea wash over him again Roland sat down on the couch and put his head between his legs until it passed. It didn’t help with the pounding in his head though, and he realised that either he’d have to go back to bed and wait for the hangover to wear off on its own, or he’d have to take something to help get rid of it. Since he didn’t have the time to waste spending yet more hours in bed, he made his way back into his room and opened up the safe under the bed. Along with Nora’s wedding ring, a few items of Shaun’s and the last holotape he had of his wife and child, he kept a small stash of medicinal chems, caps, ammo, and a silenced pistol. He found what he was looking for and brought the addictol to his lips, taking the dose and feeling it rush into his system. After locking the safe again he lay on the bed, just long enough for the drug to take effect, easing the headache and the nausea so that he could function. He still felt sick with himself, but the addictol couldn’t do anything for that.

He wanted to shower. Wash away the guilt and...the evidence. It felt too wasteful to have a proper shower right now, so he simply sprayed himself down with water that was still icy cold. That was fine, he deserved that. He changed out of the cargo pants to some old jeans and wore a check shirt rather than yesterday’s t-shirt (which, given the state of it, he was pretty sure he’d used to wipe himself off). Dressed, he went back through to the kitchen, intending to go out and find Skeev.

Codsworth hovered over, subtly blocking the door.

“Mr Roland, are you sure you’re quite alright sir? You seem distressed. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, Codsworth, it’s fine. I”m fine. Just...hungover, from yesterday. I took an addictol, I’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” Codsworth either knew better than to question further, or his programming prevented him from being too demanding and he moved aside. Either way, Roland was glad of it.

Heading out of the house, he looked up and down the street, wondering how best to find out where Skeev and Greg would be scavenging today. Sturges might know, since most of the scrap went to him. As he made his way to the workshop, he almost literally ran into MacCready.

“Oh, hey boss. I er, I was just coming to talk to you. Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I was just going to ask Sturges something. Did you need something?” That probably came out harsher than he’d meant it to. 

“Er....I...I was going to ask, about the favour you said you’d owe me? But...if you’re busy...” MacCready’s shoulders slumped, literally crestfallen by the way Roland seemed to be brushing him off. He didn’t deserve that. Just because Roland was preoccupied didn’t give him an excuse to be an ass to everyone around him.

“Sorry, Mac. I...didn’t sleep well. Kind of edgy today. Anyway, I promised I’d repay you didn’t I? Anything you need, name it.”

MacCready shifted awkwardly on his feet, looking uncomfortable and worried. “I know you’re probably busy, but what I need...it’s time sensitive. I..I have a son, and he’s sick. That’s the reason I came out here. I’ve been trying to get the cure for Duncan since I got here, but I couldn’t do it on my own.”

“MacCready, I had no idea...if I’d known...” Roland felt as though the air had been sucked out of his lungs. All this time, Mac had a sick kid and hadn’t said anything? All those times he’d been in dangerous situations, protecting Roland, risking leaving a sick child without their father? Roland was on an absolute roll in the game of ‘Being a Shitty Person’. 

“It’s fine, boss. It’s not exactly something I advertise. Wouldn’t even be telling you if I didn’t think I could trust you...Anyway, I think I know where to find the cure, at least if the information I got is good. Med Tek Research. Place is full of ferals. I tried to get through the place myself, but the fu..urg, the damn zombies were relentless. They’d have killed me if I hadn’t gotten out of their when I did. But with your help, I’m sure we could do it.”

Bothering Skeev while he was at work might be a terrible idea. The guy probably wouldn’t want to see him anyway (he’d gone to the trouble of making sure Roland wouldn’t be up before him after all), so barging into the new life he was trying build could well make things a whole lot worse. Roland should keep his distance, give Skeev the chance to process his feelings. The fact that he hadn’t immediately run off was hopefully a good thing and it meant Skeev was willing give to Sanctuary another chance, even if he couldn’t do the same for Roland. Some distance might do them both good. And if he could help MacCready, maybe it would help him rebalance the scales of karma, or something. Anything to slow whatever mutation was turning him into a horrible fucking monster of a human being.

“Of course, MacCready. We can head out today. Let me get my gear together.”

The smile that spread across MacCready’s face made Roland feel ever so slightly less terrible. “Really? That’s great! I’ll meet you by the gate when you’re ready.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________  
Skeev knew Roland was still asleep when he woke up because he could hear him snoring from the hallway. He smiled at this; when a guy was still snoring like that it in the morning it often meant he’d had a damn good time the night before.

Codsworth was ‘awake’ again, floating round the kitchen and he turned to Skeev when he came out into the main room, all cheerful creepy accent just like normal. “Good morning sir! Would you like me to get you something for breakfast?”

“Sure. When’d you wake up?” Skeev wasn’t sure if the robot would even care what it’s master got up to in his private life, but the thought of this thing...listening in...made him more than a little uneasy.

“Oh, I finished my diagnostics and reinitialised a little over two hours ago, sir. I trust everything was alright while I was offline?”

Oh good, so there was no chance he knew anything about what they’d gotten up to. Skeev had to work really hard to stop a big shit-eating grin from spreading across his face. As much as he wanted to tell the bot ‘oh it was great, I made your holier than thou boss come all over himself’, doing so would probably mortify Roland, so instead he just grunted and responded with “Yeah, fine.”

After a breakfast of sugar bombs and brahmin milk, Skeev headed out to join up with Greg for another day of scavenging. He paused in the doorway before leaving. “Hey, Codsworth? Maybe let Roland sleep in today, yeah? I’m sure he’s fine, but he might just need a bit more rest this morning. Last night probably tired him out good.” 

Codsworth would think Skeev was referring only to how Roland had gotten drunk with his friends the night before, of course. He let himself smirk at that as he walked away down the street.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

After battling through to the bowels of Med Tek, Roland decided he really hated ferals. Normal, non feral ghouls he could get along with fine. But ferals - they were disturbing in a way quite unlike any other mutated creature, because they were the very embodiment of every humans most basic, mindless animal nature. Super mutants were vicious and stupid, but they were still capable of thought. Killing a feral was an act of mercy. No human should have to exist in a state like that.

The cure itself, still sealed and hopefully viable, they found in an old lab. Whatever experiments this place had been running must have been horrific, if the state of the lab was anything to go by. It was still hard for Roland to believe such things were happening in his time; sure there had been the occasional report in the newspapers about such things, but he’d never believed them. They were all fake news, designed to wind the public into frenzy, or maybe Communist propaganda slipping through the cracks to poison the great American way of life. Maybe he was blind then, or maybe the monster under his skin had always been there, only now able to stretch its legs.

When Roland handed the cure to MacCready, the merc’s legs almost gave way from a mix of exhaustion and relief. “We did it...we...you, you just gave Duncan a fighting chance. Just one more stop, we need to get this to Daisy in Goodneighbour, her caravan contacts can get this to him. That’s the last step I promise.”

After stopping briefly to asses the damage the ghouls had done to them and their gear (thankfully, the gear took the brunt of the damage, and both men had only minor wounds) they made their way as fast as possible to get the cure to Daisy and on its way back to the Capital Wasteland.

Goodneighbour still stank like an old public toilet. While he could appreciate Mayor Hancock’s desire to give outcasts a home, surely they could keep the place cleaner? He’d think it was just his old world sensibilities, but even MacCready commented on the smell and the filth when they got through the front gate. At least this time, Roland wasn’t welcomed by the Mayor gutting someone in the street - that had been, well, not one of the best first impressions of a place he’d ever had. 

Daisy was her usual upbeat self, and seemed genuinely thrilled for MacCready when she found out he’d found the cure for his son. She promised she would see it get to the boy safely, and Roland believed her. He couldn’t help but agree when she called Mac ‘one of the good ones’.

“We should rest up here, I’ll buy you a drink at the Third Rail, it’s the least I can do...I...what you’ve done for me and Duncan, it’s more than I can ever repay.” MacCready said as they left Daisy’s store, still looking and sounding more than a little overwhelmed.

“You don’t owe me anything, you’re my friend and you needed my help. Anyway, I was the one who owed you a favour, right? So we’re all square.”

“...Thank you, Roland. That...that means more to me than you can know.” MacCready closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath through his nose and shook his head, regaining composure. “Right. So, drinks?”

After what had happened last night, Roland really didn’t want to drink. He didn’t even really want to be in a bar, around other drunk and probably high people. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea...”

“Oh come on, boss! You’ve got to let me buy you a drink! We deserve to celebrate this!” MacCready slapped his back, a big grin on his face. Roland couldn’t really turn him down, even though the thought of alcohol was making him feel sick.

“Fine, but just the one, ok? I’m...still recovering from last night.”

“Oh yeah! Codsworth and the raider guy had to carry you home, right? Guess cryo sleep does a number on your alcohol resistance, huh?”

“Something like that...”

The pair made their way down the steps to the Third Rail, acknowledging Ham as they passed. MacCready went straight over to Whitechapel Charlie to order their drinks and told Roland to grab a seat in the VIP room at the back. Charlie knew them both, so it would be fine, and it was a little more private back there than out in the main bar. Roland nodded and found the back room clear, so sat himself on the most intact seat in there and waited. It seemed like such a very long time ago when he’d first entered this room and hired MacCready. It had been a gamble, but it had definitely paid off.

MacCready came back with two glasses of Nuka and Rum. He handed the glasses to Roland so he could grab a chair and pull it over, sitting opposite Roland and taking one of the glasses back. “Cheers.” He held his glass up, and Roland chinked his own against it before taking a small sip of his drink, watching as MacCready downed a good half of his in one go.

“So, will you be heading back to the Capital now?” Roland asked, swilling the liquid around in his glass, still not wanting to drink it but not wanting to offend the man who’d brought it for him.

“Not yet. You helped me with my son, I’m going to stay and help you get your’s back. If the cure works, Duncan probably won’t be ready to move for a little while anyway. Hopefully, when he’s better, I can bring him back here. I have friends in the Capital...but my life is here now. And I don’t know if I could live there again, with the memories...” MacCready trailed off, looking distant for a moment before snapping back to reality. “I had a wife back there. She never knew I was a gunner, she always though I was a solider. I told her I was because I couldn’t admit to her what I really did.”

“Did she ever find out?” 

“No. She died before she had the chance. We took shelter in an abandoned Metro station one night. Found out too late it was infested with ferals. I only just managed to escape with Duncan in my arms...but Lucy...they tore her to pieces right in front of me.”

Roland felt a stab of pain in his chest, both for what MacCready had been though and from the way it brought back his own memories of Nora’s death. “God MacCready, I’m so sorry...I...I know what I’ve been though isn’t the same, but I know what it’s like to lose someone you love like that. If you ever need to talk, I’m here if you need me.”

“I know, Roland, I appreciate that. I’m not going to say I’m over it, because I don’t think I ever will be...but I have to keep living, you know? For Duncan.”

Roland nodded. He could understand what it was like better than most. No wonder he had always felt a kinship with MacCready, the two had both lost a wife in terrible, traumatic ways and both had sons they desperately wanted to save, all be it in different ways.

“...Hey, are you ok Roland? You’ve hardly touched your drink.”

“Huh? Oh...I...like you said I got pretty drunk yesterday. Don’t want to have my liver give out on me is all.”

“You sure? You’re my friend, too. So if you need to talk about anything bothering you, you can. Is it...has this all reminded you of Shaun?”

Roland could lie. He could just nod and say that helping MacCready save his son made him hate himself even more for not having saved Shaun yet (which it did), but that wasn’t what was bothering him. Here MacCready was, treating him like some sort of hero, when he was just a monster who’d taken advantage of someone when he was drunk. As much as he didn’t want to spoil MacCready’s moment of joy, and as much as he didn’t want to admit what he’d done, he couldn’t bring himself to lie.

“No...I...I’m just worried about Skeev.”

MacCready pulled a face. “Raider guy? Why? You think he’s going to try something because we’re away? You know Preston’s got it covered. And Codsworth’s keeping an eye on him, right? Sanctuary will be fine.”

“It’s not that. I...” Roland sighed, putting his drink down on a table beside them and pressing his fingers against his temples. “...Something happened before we left. I...think I might have really screwed up, MacCready.” Great choice of words, he thought after saying them.

“Why? Did Skeev do something? If that little shit did something to hurt you I’ll...” MacCready had tensed, already starting to push himself off his chair as though he was getting ready to storm all the way back to Sanctuary.

“No! He didn’t do anything, it was me! I...” Roland hid his face in his hands, not daring to look at MacCready. “I slept with him. Last night. I slept with Skeev.”

Silence. Roland looked up, cautiously.

The young merc was frozen, sat back down in his seat. “You....wait...I...I didn’t hear that right. It sounded like you said you slept with Skeev. That’s not what you said though, right?”

Roland groaned, nausea hitting him again. “That’s what I said.”

“Why?!”

“Because I was drunk, and lonely and acting like a god damn idiot!”

“Well, obviously! Skeev? Seriously? Of all the people you could have jumped into bed with, why in the heck did you pick that guy?”

“Because...I find him attractive, and he was, well, he was just there. But that’s not the point MacCready, I’m not ashamed because of who I slept with, I’m terrified that I slept with him and he didn’t really want me to.”

“...Roland. Why would you think that? I know you, even drunk you would never do that. You’re not that kind of person. Are you sure it wasn’t the other way around? I mean, you were drunk, he could have taken advantage of that and...Roland if he hurt you...” MacCready was staring at him, trying to make eye contact but Roland wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“He didn’t hurt me, MacCready! He...Look, back at Home Plate, when he was first getting back on his feet, he...offered himself to me, in that way. I declined of course - it was obvious that he thought I would use him wether he wanted it or not and he thought he’d ‘get it out of the way’ so I’d let him go. It’s obvious he’s been taken advantage of like that in the past, and now I’m scared that what happened last night wasn’t really consensual on his part. And if it wasn’t....Jesus MacCready if it wasn’t then I’m a rapist. I’m as bad as any raider.”

MacCready was silent again for quite some time, simply looking at Roland with a mixture of disbelief, horror, and concern.

“I can’t believe that you’re a rapist, Roland. That’s not who you are. Tell me exactly, did Skeev say or do anything that would imply he didn’t want...what happened...to happen?”

“No. I mean...I don’t think so. It seemed like he enjoyed it just as much a I did...but...What he if was just doing it because he thought he owed me it? Like it was payment, or something?”

“Even if that was the case, then it would still have been consensual, right? If he didn’t say no, or ask you to stop, or seem uncomfortable...then it can’t have been rape. It would be...well I guess it would be like sleeping with a hooker.”

“...Maybe. But I still feel like I took advantage of him. And I told him that I’d never do that.”

MacCready sighed, finishing the last of his drink in one large gulp. “You need to speak to him. You can’t just leave this hanging in the air if it’s going to screw you up like this. From what you’ve said to me, I really don’t think you did anything wrong. Other than...well, I mean, Skeev? Urg. You have really shitty taste in guys, boss.”

Roland actually managed a slight laugh at that last comment. “He’s really not so bad, you know?”

“If you say so...I still kinda wish you’d let me shoot him.”

“MacCready!”

MacCready shrugged and rolled his eyes. “We should spend the night at the Rexford, don’t want to be travelling around here once it gets dark out. When we get back to Sanctuary tomorrow though, you’re sorting this out with Skeev. I’m not having you thinking you’re a rapist when you haven’t done anything wrong.”

Roland nodded solemnly. He hoped MacCready was right, he had to admit he did feel slightly better, though that might be just because he’d gotten it off his chest by telling someone. What the merc said did make sense. Skeev hadn’t said or done anything that would indicate he didn’t consent - he’d even been the one to suggest it in the first place, if Roland’s memory could be trusted. But the thought that Skeev was just acting out of some misplaced idea of what Roland wanted from him, or because he thought he owed him that, it still bothered him. For the first time in a long while, he was not looking forward to being back in Sanctuary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from the Ancient Egyptian belief in weighing the heart of the dead against the feather of justice to judge a soul.  
> Everything that happens between Skeev and Roland is consensual, Roland is just more screwed up than he lets on and is convinced he’s becoming a terrible person who does terrible things.  
> Comments and kudos much appreciated, as are suggestions and corrections.


	10. A Deathclaw called ChooChoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings; discussion of consent issues, swearing

Deacon picked up the dead drop from Fixer just outside of Cambridge. It told him that he’d acquired information from Virgil, and that he needed Deacon’s help to go after a courser chip. Glory probably would have been more useful, since she was a heavy, but given that she didn’t even like taking out gen 1s and 2s, she probably wouldn’t be ok with ripping the chip out of another synth’s head - even if that synth was a courser. Deacon wasn’t overly fond of the idea either, but sometimes you had to do things you didn’t like in service of the greater good. Eww, no ‘the greater good’ was far too potentially nefarious a phrase. For the good of a two hundred year old man and his kidnapped son. Ah yes, much less problematic.

Mostly, Deacon had been spending his time since splitting from Fixer in Diamond City watching the airport, occasionally checking in on the Police Station in Cambridge. Ever since the Brotherhood had rode into town with their giant blimp and shiny vertibirds, he’d been trying to gather as much intel on them and their plans as possible. Back in the Capital, they hadn’t been all bad - still totalitarian racists who wanted to horde all the fancy tech for themselves, but they’d done some good in getting mass water purification up and running and fighting back the Enclave. Whoever this lot were, they seemed a lot more interested in shock and awe, and that didn’t bode well. No doubt they had some reason to come here, and if had anything to do with the Railroad, he had to be ready. They had to be ready.

He traveled into Sanctuary with Trashcan Carla’s caravan, not making himself known immediately so that he could get any tidbits of information out of the settlers free from his association with the General tainting what he got told. The General himself was out on a mission with the mercenary MacCready, a regular travelling companion of his. 

Currently, Deacon sat at the little bar set up in the car shelter of one of the old buildings near the entrance gate, the front mostly open to the elements but the previously open side was panelled over with salvaged wood to give some shelter from the wind and rain. He’d been ‘casually’ chatting with the barman - they always had the best gossip.

“You know the General brought a raider to live here?” The barman, a middle aged, balding guy who looked like he probably drank too much of his own stock, asked.

“No way! You’re pulling my leg.” Deacon was using his best Bostonian accent, laying it on heavy. He was an up-and-coming trader from Diamond City, after all, selling ‘discreet personal items’ for the discerning customer. His patched suit, trilby hat and toupee really sold the look. He’d seriously considered a fake moustache too, but it was darn hard finding a good one and getting it to stick. Growing his own facial hair out was too much effort, unless he was knew he was going undercover for a while.

“Swear to you, he works salvage with old Greg now. Think he’s called Skeet, or Skeev, or...one of them stupid raider names anyway. Lives in the General’s place, got that Mr. Handy keeping an eye on him.”

“Wow. That’s crazy. Why’d you reckon the General would do a thing like that?” Deacon knew Fixer’s reasons for saving the raider initially, but Deacon hadn’t really held out any hope that Roland’s idea of reforming the man would bear fruit. Maybe he’d been wrong. Interesting.

The barkeep shrugged, wiping out a glass with a clean(ish) cloth rag. “Nobody’s quite sure. Some people think he’s using the guy as an experiment. You know, like trying to see if raiders can be rehabilitated? Seems pointless to me, easier to just kill ‘em all. Some people think the raider knows something that the General doesn’t want getting out, some dirty secret. I think that’s bull too, but I guess anything’s possible. ‘Spose he has his reasons, whatever they are.”

“Aren’t people angry about having a raider here? Seems pretty dangerous to let a guy like that stay here.” Deacon replied, drinking a little of the room temperature beer he’d brought. It tasted like watered down piss, probably brought off of The Third Rail brewery, but he just a weary salesman who didn’t care.

“Eh...Some folks are. Marcy Long, she’d talk your ear off about how the General’s gone crazy and put the whole settlement at risk. That woman’s not all there though, if I’m honest. She lost her kid, that knocked a few screws loose I reckon. Greg, guy who works with him, says he’s ok, he just isn’t ‘social’. And it ain’t like he has free reign or anything.”

“Huh. Well ain’t that something. A tame raider. Heck, maybe I’ll get myself a pet Deathclaw after all.” Deacon joked. Half joked...maybe a pet Deathclaw would be cool? He could hang a lantern around its neck, call it ‘ChooChoo’ and it could be the new Railroad mascot.

The barkeep laughed. “Bet the General could tame you one. Seems like he can charm just about anything.”

“Quite a guy, huh?” For once, Deacon didn’t have to lie about something. Roland was definitely something else. He could very well be the best hope the Commonwealth had, if he kept going the way he was. There were so very many ways he could stray off path though, loose his way, if the wrong people got their claws into that overly optimistic mind of his. Less likely to happen if Deacon could keep him close enough to steer him in the right direction.

“Oh, he’s something alright.” The barman agreed. Stay in town long enough you might get to meet him, he’s spends a lot of his time here when he’s not out there bringing the Commonwealth to heel.”

“Well, guess I have to stick around for a bit now then. He sounds like just the sort of guy I’d like to meet.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Roland parted ways with MacCready at the front gate. Before they’d gotten to Sanctuary, MacCready had pulled him over for a quick chat by the old Red Rocket station. He’d handed Roland a small, wooden carved soldier, and said it was something his wife gave him. It meant a lot to him, and he wanted Roland to have it, hoping it would mean something to him now, too. Roland had pulled the young merc into a hug, which Mac quickly wriggled out of. “Make sure you talk to Skeev. If I find out you haven’t I’ll talk to him myself, and I’m guessing you don’t want that.” MacCready had warned.

Rather than bother with the usual pleasantries, Roland went straight to the settlement armoury to drop off his gear, giving only passing acknowledgement to those who greeted him, and then straight home. He spent the rest of his time waiting for Skeev to get back from scavving trying to control his nerves. He didn’t have any appetite so didn’t bother with a meal, his mind was racing too fast to concentrate on reading and he couldn’t sit still, so he paced the room instead. Since he wanted to talk to Skeev alone, he asked Codsworth to find something outside of the house to occupy himself with for a couple of hours so he wasn’t in when Skeev got back.

As soon as Skeev walked in the door and he saw Roland pacing the room like some caged animal, his back stiffened. Roland couldn’t be sure if that reaction was just a reaction to seeing him (which didn’t bode well), or to the way Roland had been pacing. Finding himself unable to talk, Roland ended up just staring at Skeev, really hoping the other man would speak first. 

“...Hey Vaulty...Everything ok?” Skeev finally asked, slowly and somewhat cautiously closing the door behind himself. He sounded concerned, but not necessarily angry, or afraid. So that was good, right?

Roland kept his distance, worried he would make Skeev feel trapped if he got too close. “Hey. Er...can we talk?”

Skeev took a few steps into the room, still eyeing Roland suspiciously. “Sure...”

“About the other day...” How could Roland phrase this? Did he just come out and ask directly? Or should he give Skeev the chance to speak up if he wanted to?

“Yeah?” 

“Did I...I mean...you did want that didn’t you?”

“Gonna have to be a bit more specific, Vaulty.”

With no other choice but to bite the bullet, Roland came right out with the question. “You wanted to have sex with me, right? I didn’t force you to do anything you didn’t actually want to?”

Skeev snorted out a laugh, visibly relaxing “What? Of course I wanted it, why else would I ask if you were interested?” He shifted a little, his amused expression dropping slightly when Roland didn’t immediately respond. “What, you regretting it or something? Not like it would be the first time someone got wasted and regretted last nights fuck, but...well I had fun anyway. Was hoping it might happen again, but whatever.” Even though he was trying to hide it by casually brushing the issue aside, Roland thought there was hint of hurt in Skeev’s voice. 

“No, I mean, I don’t regret it, I was just worried that it’s wasn’t...you know, consensual...” Having pretty much convinced himself that he’d done something terrible, finding out he hadn’t hit Roland a whole lot harder than it should have done. He should have been relieved, which he was, but he couldn’t quite believe it.

“You’re losing me Vaulty. What part of me coming all over your cock do you think wasn’t consensual?” Skeev had crossed his arms and leant against the bookcase by the door, calm and casual as anything. How could he be so relaxed about all this when it had been tearing Roland apart inside since he woke up yesterday? 

Roland blushed instantly, cheeks going bright red. “Well, er, back in Diamond City you...you offered to...you know...and I was worried that last night was the same, only I was too drunk to refuse and went along with it instead of turning you down. I told you back then that I’d never abuse you like that, and I meant it. So if I did...I just need to know why you slept with me the other night. I need to know I didn’t...do anything to hurt you.”

“Right, Vaulty, listen. That night, I asked if you’d be interested because I was horny, and you are hot. It’s really, really simple. Back in Diamond City, well, that was different. I didn’t know you then, figured you kept me alive because you either wanted to fuck me or torture me, and I’d rather get fucked than fucked up, yeah?”

“So, we’re good?” 

“Yeah, we’re good. You been freaking out about this since yesterday, that why you ran off with the merc?”

Nodding, Roland replied, feeling stupid. Skeev was fine. He was fine. He wasn’t a monster. “Sort of, yeah.”

“Idiot.” Skeev sneered, though he didn’t sound as angry as his expression would suggest. “You sleeping with the merc too?”

“MacCready? No! He’s just my friend. He asked for my help with something important and I...was freaking out, so I took my mind off it by helping him out. He...he er...knows, though.”

“Knows, like, knows we fucked?”

“Yeah...”

Skeev groaned, facepalming. “Great.” 

“He won’t tell anyone, if you’re worried about other people finding out.” Roland hadn’t really wanted MacCready to find out, especially not in the way that he had, so he could understand why Skeev wouldn’t be too happy about it either. Plus, Skeev and MacCready really didn’t seem to like each other, though he wasn’t sure why they should have such animosity when as far as he knew they hadn’t actually spoken to each other.

“I ain’t exactly the one who’s been worrying am I?” Skeev shrugged.

“True...I’m sorry about all this Skeev. I never meant for things to get so complicated.”

“Relax Vaulty, ain’t nothing complicated about it. We were both stressed, we had sex, I felt less stressed and you had a massive fucking freak out for no reason. It don’t need to ever happen again and we don’t need to talk about it anymore.” Skeev seemed to deem that the end of the conversation and went to leave.

Roland quickly grabbed Skeev’s upper arm to stop him, letting go again as soon as Skeev turned to face him. “Wait. I...I did enjoy it. Quite a lot, actually.”

“Yeah?” Skeev raised an eyebrow, like he wasn’t sure if he believed Roland or not.

Trying to ignore the way his cheeks burned, Roland replied. “Yeah.” He really had enjoyed himself at the time, and were it not for his own paranoia that he’d done something wrong, he would have classed the night as a very pleasant one and would have been quick to suggest they do it again sometime.

Skeev tilted his head “...If it ever happened again, would we have this whole freak out issue again?”

“No. Now that I know everything was totally consensual, for both of us, I’m good. I’m sorry I freaked out like I did...It’s just so much has happened...I’m scared of who I might be becoming, do you understand?”

“I guess?” Skeev didn’t actually look as though he really understood, despite his statement, but at least he wasn’t angry. “Just so we’re totally clear, you’d be up for a round two, minus the freaking out afterwards.”

“Yes.” It probably wasn’t sensible, but when he really thought about it, Roland did like the idea of being intimate with Skeev again. Maybe it was just because he was crushingly lonely, maybe it was because he was ever so slightly losing his mind. Perhaps a bit of both.

“Nice. Good talk Vaulty.” It would be easy to assume Skeev was unbothered, but the slight upward curl of his lips and the wink he gave Roland as he passed by him suggested outside.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Skeev had not long vanished off into his room when there was a knock on Roland’s front door. Relived as he was to have sorted things out with Skeev, Roland didn’t really want to deal with guests right now, he was tired and still processing his conversation. 

“Ppsst. Fixer. You in there?”

Roland rolled his eyes. Well at least now he knew who was bothering him. He opened up the door, leaving it open as he walked to sit on the couch, knowing Deacon would take the hint to let himself in. There were worse people who could be bothering him. “Hey Deacon.”

“What, no welcome hug? Ouch. I thought you would miss me...”

“Sorry man. I’m all out of hugs today. There’s a nationwide shortage.” Roland did manage a small smile. He happened to know Deacon wasn’t a hugger anyway, so he knew he wouldn’t be offended.

“Oh, sucky. So...” Deacon plopped himself down on the seat next to the defunct television in the corner of the room. “Where’s your houseguest?”

“Codsworth?”

“No, the other one. You know, the one who isn’t two hundred years old?”

“You sure keep up to date with everything, don’t you Deacon? His name is Skeev, he’s already gone to bed.” Roland really didn’t want to talk about Skeev right now - not only was he in the house and he might overhear anything said, he was still deciding what his next move would be with him (and if there even should be a next move).

“Dang, I was hoping to actually meet him. He always seems to be taking a nap when I’m around...”

“Aha. Please tell you’re here because you got my dead drop and not just to bother my guest.” Roland replied, hoping to move the conversation along to something more productive. 

“Nah, I got your drop. Deacon here, reporting for courser eradication duty.” Deacon lifted his hand in a mock salute.

“Good. I could sure use the help. MacCready’s on board too. Nick offered, but he has other cases to work and I don’t want to monopolise his time. Preston’s still not comfortable leaving things here for too long, so we have to count him out. Anyone else from the Railroad able to lend a hand?”

Deacon shifted in the seat, taking off his hat briefly to rearrange a terrible toupee he was wearing. “That’s a negatory I’m afraid. Glory isn’t comfortable with the fact we’ll be taking out one of her own, and well...you know we’re a bit thin on the ground right now. But really, you’ve got me! Who else do you need?”

“I’ll let you take point for this one then, shall I?” Roland replied with the hint of a smile. He knew how much Deacon hated being in the open.

“Oh, well, I’d hate to deprive you of that honour.” Deacon paused, pushing his shades back up from where they had slid slightly down his nose. When he spoke again, his tone was entirely serious. “We need to start thinking about The Brotherhood, Fixer. They’ve really dug in at the airport since that blimp got here. They’re planning something big, and we need to know what. Since you’re technically a member...”

Roland waved a hand dismissively, knowing what Deacon was going to say next. “I haven’t spoken to the Brotherhood for ages, Deacon. Not since I helped out the group at Cambridge Police Station, well before I’d even heard of you guys. Paladin Danse made me an Initiate, yes, but since I haven’t reported in for so long, I’m not sure that even means anything anymore.”

“It’s still the best shot we have to get a man on the inside. And we need that, badly. I have a plan all worked out - in theory anyway. After we get the courser chip, I’ll fill you in on it.”

Roland sighed. He wanted to help the Railroad and he still needed their help to get to the Institute, but he already had so much going on. Everything for the Minutemen, finding Shaun, Railroad missions, friends to help...the last thing he really wanted was to have to deal with a whole other faction that would no doubt also want him to run errands for them. 

“I’ll think about it. I can’t promise anything right now...Let’s just focus on getting the chip, and we’ll go from there, ok?”

Deacon nodded, not seeming upset by the uncertain response. Roland had always found him to be reasonable, despite his tendency to lie about everything. “No worries Fixer my man. Now that we have that covered, how are things with your new raider buddy, Skeev?”

Damn. Seemed Deacon wasn’t willing to drop that topic just yet.

“He’s not a raider any more, but, things are good. He’s doing really well, actually. Working hard here. I’m proud of him.” Roland hoped it would be enough to sate Deacon’s interest, while keeping things vague enough to not raise suspicion. 

“Aww. Good for you. Housetraining is always so difficult, you’ve done well.”

“Don’t be an ass, Deacon. He’s a human being, not a pet. He deserves to be treated with some respect.”

Roland thought he saw Deacon’s eyebrow twitch under the shades with some surprise at his response, before his expression became totally unreadable again. “Of course, Roland. I jest, forgive me. I’m glad he’s doing well, honestly.” 

“Aha. Look, Deacon, I don’t mean to be rude, but are we done here? I’m pretty tired.” Deacon had good reason to be surprised by his change of tone with Skeev, Roland supposed. He had joked about keeping him as a pet when they’d transported him to Diamond City after all. That had been before he knew Skeev as a person though...and before he’d slept with him. Roland really hoped Deacon wouldn’t read too much into it, but knowing Deacon, he probably would.

“No problemo. I’ll be on my way. I’m staying in the bunkhouse, let me know when you and MacCready are ready to head out and track down this chip we need.” Deacon gave nothing away when he spoke. Enviable. 

“I will. Thanks, Deac. I appreciate your help with this.”

Deacon doffed his hat and stood, letting himself out of the house. Roland stayed on the couch a little longer before finally heading to bed, his body tired but his head still full with the weight of his responsibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I’ve been a bit slow updating lately, been struggling with a lack of creativity. If you’re enjoying the story so far, please let me know, feedback really helps keep me motivated :]


	11. Turned tables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roland, Deacon and MacCready search for a courser chip. 
> 
> Skeev and Greg make an ill fated scav trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains swearing

Like Virgil had told him to, Roland started his hunt for a courser by the ruins of the old C.I.T. before he, Deacon and MacCready had set out, they’d sorted though the armoury at Sanctuary to find the best gear and weapons they could and stocked up on ammo and meds. All expected a difficult fight, but it was impossible to pre-plan an attack in earnest since they had so little information to go on. Roland had asked MacCready again before they left if he was absolutely sure he was comfortable joining them for what was sure to be a dangerous mission, given that he had Duncan to think about, but MacCready had insisted he wanted to help. Truthfully, Roland was very glad he was staying - he was a damn good shot.

Roland took point, using his Pip-Boy to scan for the right frequency, finally getting a hit on the path along the riverside in front of the C.I.T. Deacon and MacCready stayed a little behind him, MacCready scanning the rooftops and buildings for trouble while Deacon stayed focused for ground level threats. The signal led them through some dangerous territory, but they managed to avoid any firefights by staying out of sight. No sense in wasting resources on unnecessary battles.

The signal led to a large tower block, offices and labs that once housed Greentech Genetics. It was clear as soon as they entered that they weren’t the first ones there - several bodies lay strewn across the entrance room, recently deceased. 

“Looks like Gunners.” MacCready commented, checking the bodies quickly. 

“Would Gunners have a reason to go after a courser?” Deacon asked.

MacCready shook his head. “Pretty sure they don’t even know coursers are a thing. Not the grunts anyway, I’d never heard of them. They must be here for something else.”

“If they get in the way, we’ll take them out. If we’re lucky we might be able to reason with them. We’re only here for the courser, if they’re after something else then we don’t have any quarrel with them.” Roland said, making his way towards the doors at the back of the entrance hall.

“Fat chance of that..” MacCready mumbled, before he was cut off by the sound of gunfire up ahead. 

“Come on. We need the chip intact. Let’s get it before the Gunners can, yeah?” Roland said, signalling the small group forward. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________

“Lexington?” 

Skeev was following slightly behind Greg, who was tugging a brahmin along with them by a ramshackle halter. 

“Yep. It’s about an hour walk. Plenty of places to go through for salvage there.” Greg replied. He’d told Skeev when they met up this morning that today would be a bit different to their usual scav runs, which was why he’d be bringing a pack brahmin along, but he hadn’t elaborated and Skeev hadn’t started to question him until they were on the road heading out past Concord.

“What about the raiders at Corvega? There’s been a big crew in the old factory there for a while.” 

“Friends of yours?” Greg inquired.

Skeev shook his head. He’d met one or two guys from Jared’s crew out of the Corvega factory when he’d visited the Combat Zone, but they tended to be more interested in recruiting than anything else, and Skeev didn’t want to change crew. They offered free chems, which drew plenty of people in, but nothing came for free and there was bound to be some unpleasant catch.

“Just as well. The General took them all out, the factory’s clear.”

“All of them? No way. How?” Jared had one of the biggest gangs in the area (at least if his recruiters were telling the truth) and they had a huge, well fortified base. Sure, Roland was a whole lot tougher than he looked, but surely he couldn’t be that tough?

Greg shrugged. “I don’t know the details, only that the raiders aren’t there anymore and we have the General to thank for it. You shouldn’t be surprised, he took out your whole crew, right?”

“Yeah, but, there weren’t that many of us. Not a whole fucking factory full.”

“Like I said, I don’t know how he did it, but he cleaned house there. Definitely not a guy you want to be on the wrong side of. But I’m guessing you’d know that better than most of us, huh?”

Skeev overcame the shiver that ran along his spine which happened every time he thought about how he’d met Vaulty. He hated just how much it terrified him, how close he’d been to dying, so he pushed it to the back of his mind. Shoved it away with all the other horrible shit into the box he refused to deal with. “I guess.”

“How exactly did you survive anyway?”

“What?” Why were people always poking him for personal information? He wasn’t that interesting. Maybe people only asked because they somehow knew how much he hated talking about himself, but that was probably paranoia talking.

“How come you’re the only one left of your gang?” Greg continued, eyes on Skeev.

“I...I got lucky, I guess.” Skeev tried to sound unbothered, like the topic didn’t really bother him ask much as it did.

“Lucky seems like an understatement.” Greg said, though thankfully his attention had returned to the road ahead.

“Whatever. There some reason we’re going out to Lexington rather than somewhere closer?” It wasn’t that travel bothered Skeev, he was more than capable of walking long distances, but the further away from ‘base’ you went the more risky it tended to be since you’d be that much further away from anyone who could back you up if things went to shit.

“Harold’s team is scavving in Concord. We’ve already stripped most worth taking out of the smaller places close to Sanctuary. Makes sense for us to check that bit further afield.”

“Wouldn't we be better helping Harold out in Concord? Place must be big enough we won’t be stepping on each other’s toes.” Larger groups of people always drew more attention, but there was safety in numbers. Skeev didn’t like to think of himself as a coward, but he didn’t like to take more risks than necessary. That wasn’t really cowardly, as such, just sensible.

“Sure. But there isn’t going to be much good stuff left there. I’d rather work a bit harder and earn a few more caps, wouldn’t you?”

Skeev shrugged “...Sure, I guess. What about ferals and shit in Lexington? Raiders ain’t the only thing could kill us out that far.” He remembered overhearing Preston talking to Sturges once about when they’d had to flee from ferals infesting Lexington.

“That’s what I have this for.” Greg lifted his pistol from its holster and waved it for emphasis. “Don’t worry. The place is much clearer than it was when Preston and those poor folks first came through. We’ll be fine.”

Skeev didn’t feel all that reassured. Greg was a long way from being a merc, and his reactions weren’t anything to boast about. And all he had, other than Greg’s assurances that he could protect them with his peashooter, was his own shitty tire iron. Since he didn’t feel like he really had a choice in the matter, all he could do was hope Greg was right.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

“Still good on ammo?” Roland asked, reloading as he did so. The Gunners still alive in the building had opened fire on them as soon as they saw them, giving Roland no chance to try and talk them out of violence. They hadn’t had any option but to use lethal force to fight their way though, and there was a lot more resistance than he’d been expecting. He’d planned for going up against a courser, maybe a group of gen1s and 2s, not a small army of Gunners in an ancient building rigged with turrets and land mines.

“Yeah boss. Only so much I’m going to be able to do with my rifle in here unless it opens up some more.” MacCready called in response, peeking out of the cover of the doorway to the hallway they were currently in to shoot down a Gunner firing on them from an open walkway up above.

“Deacon?”

“Ok for now. Might be worth using some of the grenades you brought if the numbers don’t thin out soon though, I’m going through cells faster than I want to be.” Deacon was using the laser rifle that Danse had given Roland, partly because it was a darn good weapon and partly because he liked the idea of his grubby Railroad fingers all over the Brotherhood weapon. Gave shooting people with lasers that little bit more irony.

“Won’t help us if a grenade collapses this place down on our heads, Deac.” Roland wasn’t sure how structurally sound this place was, given its age and the fact that it had been through an atomic weapon blast. Parts were already completely collapsed and Roland did not want to go out from being crushed under a pile of office chairs when the floor above them gave way.

“How many floors up are we going to have to go? This building is huge. If the courser is on the top floor, and every floor is like this...” MacCready didn’t have to finish the sentence, they all knew what he meant. They could restock some ammo and meds from the Gunners they took down, but prolonged combat would wear them down physically and mentally, and they needed to be on top form against the courser.

“I know. We’ll think of something. We can do this.” Roland hoped he sounded sure of himself. As much as he trusted his own combat skill, and the skill of the men with him, it was never wise to take combat lightly. “Cover me, I’m going to push up.” With cover fire from Deacon and MacCready, Roland made his way across the exposed catwalk between them and the next floor, deftly disarming mines as he went.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Lexington was worryingly quiet, but Greg didn’t seem as worried as he should have been about it. The old guy had gone to unload some of the stuff they’d found onto the brahmin, which they’d tied to a tree behind a nearby building. Skeev had found an interesting looking chest container towards the back of a partially collapsed building which he was currently trying to get into. Parts of the ceiling had fallen on top of it, making opening it especially difficult.

By the time he heard the footsteps coming up behind him, Skeev barely had time to grab his tire iron and spin around. To his dismay, the footsteps weren’t Greg. The man standing between him and the best way out of the building was definitely a raider, and he had a pipe rifle pointed right at him. Skeev quickly dropped his weapon and put his hands in the air. He probably wouldn’t be fast enough to take the guy out with the iron before getting shot, and he had no way of knowing if the guy was alone or with a larger gang. Surrender was his best option. He knew from experience being the other side of this encounter that many raiders would let cooperative victims leave mostly unharmed. It was still risky - this guy might be one of the ones who liked to watch people suffer, or he might decide to take pleasure from Skeev in other ways. 

“You alone, scavver?” The raider asked, moving forward slowly, keeping the gun pointed at Skeev’s head. He wore the same type of shitty patchwork armour Skeev had once worn, his brown hair a greasy, matted mess, face unshaven. Even for a raider, he looked rough. A survivor from the Corvega gang, maybe.

“No.” Skeev didn’t want to drop Greg in the shit, really, but he was more interested in keeping himself out of it than protecting someone else. 

“How many others?”

“Just one.”

The raider looked suspicious, no doubt finding it strange that there were only the two of them, alone out here. “Where?”

“He’ll be nearby.”

“Call him.” 

Skeev did as he was told, calling out Greg’s name. He didn’t shout for Greg too loud, partly because he was sure he’d be nearby and partly because he was worried loud noises might draw out wildlife.

Greg must have been on his way back to Skeev when he heard his name being called, because it took only a few moments for him to appear outside the building. “Whats the ma..oh, shit.” Greg spotted the raider holding Skeev at gunpoint and went for his own gun, but before he could he was attacked from behind by another assailant. He took a blow to the back of the head and went down hard, collapsing into a heap on the floor. 

Shit. Skeev hoped he wasn’t dead. If Greg died and he somehow survived this, it was going to be real difficult to explain turning up at Sanctuary alone. They’d probably think he’d planned this somehow and refuse to let him in, or shoot him dead at the gate. He heard Greg groan and saw him move though and was genuinely relieved.

“Stay down old man.” The guy who’d attacked Greg appeared in Skeev’s line of sight. He was terribly thin, with dark sunken eyes and the tell tale sores of a junkie. Shit. Junkies were trouble, even if they were on the same side as you and Skeev, he wasn’t on the same side as these guys anymore. He carried a pistol, the butt of which he’d likely used to hit Greg with.

“You bastards have any idea where you are? This is Minutemen territory now.” Greg complained loudly, staying down on the ground but lifting his head up just enough to be heard.

“Well, they don’t seem to be here right now, do they?” The raider with his gun on Skeev noted.

“Shut up, Greg” Skeev hissed, cutting the older man off before he could sat anything else. He really didn’t want the old guy winding these assholes up to the point that they ended up shooting him - or worse, shooting them both.

“Yeah, shut it, Greg.” The junkie laughed, kicking at the downed man. Greg yelped in pain from the kick, but after that remained silent.

“Empty your pockets, both of you, now.” The first raider barked.

Greg picked himself up off of the floor to a kneeling position so that he could turn out his pockets. There was little in them, a small stash of caps, some random bits of electronics, wires and cabling, a couple of packs of gum.

Skeev did the same, having even less on him. Nothing but a few loose caps and some cloth scraps. The rest of what they’d gathered so far was on the brahmin, having just been loaded onto it by Greg.

Junkie raider picked though the meagre items, growing increasingly angry. “This is rubbish! These guys don’t have anything good, Roy! Fuck!” He gathered up what there was and stuffed it into his own pockets, picking up the tire iron and gun Greg dropped too.

“You holding out on us? Got a stash nearby?” The other raider, apparently called Roy and obviously the smarter one of the two asked, addressing Skeev rather than Greg.

“There’s a brahmin tied up behind that building. Has the rest of our stuff on it.” Skeev nodded his head in the direction of the brahmin. 

“God Dammit Skeev, you want to give them the clothes off our back too?” Greg complained, glancing over at him furiously. Skeev glared back. He knew what he was doing, couldn’t Greg for once just have a little faith in him?

“Shut it old man. You better not be playing us. If there’s anything back there besides a pack beast, I’m gutting you both. Understand?” 

“I’m not lying.” Skeev didn’t care about losing the brahmin or the stuff on it. Stuff could be replaced, so could animals. Still, what was on the brahmin might not satisfy these guys, particularly the junkie one and he didn’t fancy finding out what would happen if he got more annoyed.

“Jo, Go check it out.” Roy motioned to his friend, nodding to the same direction Skeev had.

With the junkie out of the way, Skeev decided to try giving the more reasonable raider some info, with the hope that it might make the guy less inclined to waste him. “Quarter of a Stimpack and one puff of Jet. Will hold the withdrawals off, till he can get a real hit.”

“What?”

“Your friend. Those withdrawals from Med-X or Psycho?”

“How did you...?”

“Known guys with that issue before. Know what it looks like.” Skeev had known plenty of junkies. Most either got themselves killed by overdosing or by being too high to shoot straight when they needed to. He knew better than to care about junkies, but he’d been friends with guys who weren’t far off becoming ones, in the past. Price had always been too fond of Med-X for his own good, but he knew how to keep the worst of the withdrawals at bay by using the same chem mix Skeev had just told this guy about. 

Roy regarded Skeev thoughtfully, and looked about ready to say something when the other raider reappeared and drew his attention. “Anything?” 

“Just the brahmin, like he said. Nothing good on it, neither.” Junkie raider replied, scratching at one of the sores on his face.

“Well, shit. Grab the beast, load this stuff on it. There a Stimpack in that lot?”

“Yeah. Why, you hurt?” Jo looked from Greg and Skeev to Roy, as if trying to figure out how they could have caused him an injury.

“Nah, I’m good, just got an idea.” Roy turned to face Skeev again “That true, ‘bout the Stimpack and Jet?”

Skeev nodded. He’d seen it work for Price. “Yeah.”

Roy regarded Skeev with curiosity, no doubt wondering why anyone would give the people mugging them any helpful advice. “Jo, toss me this guys tire iron.”

“Why?”

“Just fucking do it.” Roy growled, not looking away from Skeev.

Skeev tensed, focusing on keeping his breath steady and his face free of the fear gripping him. He’d done everything ‘right’, surely this guy wasn’t going to cave his head in with his own tire iron for no reason? He couldn’t have misread these two that badly.

The twitchy raider, ‘Jo’, found Skeev’s iron and tossed it to his partner, who caught it with one hand and dropped it on the ground in front of Skeev. This guy had to be a newbie or something. Giving a vic their weapon back? You didn’t do that unless you were still soft, or the sort of sicko who liked victims to fight back, and this guy didn’t have that vibe.

“Don’t touch that till we’re gone.” The raider kept the stern tone of voice, and even if Skeev was sure that the guy was soft, he wasn’t an idiot who was going to push his luck by trying anything, so he nodded to show he understood.

The raiders gave them both one last look before walking away in the direction the brahmin was, going to retrieve it and leave. Skeev didn’t pick up his weapon again until he was sure they’d gone and Greg only made a movement once Skeev did.

“What the Hell was that?” Greg asked, clearly angry. Since it was pretty damn obvious that what had just happened was them being robbed, Skeev assumed Greg was complaining about the way Skeev had acted. 

“I saved our lives.” Skeev replied, incredulous. Greg should be thankful - if the old guy had been alone he’d probably be dead right now instead of bitching.

“They took all our stuff, Skeev! All our salvage, my gun, everything!”

“Still breathing though, ain’t we? I ain’t dying for scrap. And they let me keep this. Fucking generous for raiders.” He held up the tire iron. It was a shit weapon against anything but close range melee enemies, but it would work against animals and ferals. Better than nothing, anyway.

“We might have been able to take them if you didn’t surrender and give all our stuff away!”

“Maybe. But more likely we’d have got ourselves killed, for bits of old shit and a pack brahmin.” Skeev highly doubted they’d have stood much of a chance in combat - if he’d had his own gun maybe they would have done. Still might not have made a difference since the raiders managed to sneak up on them. That’s what you got for thinking an area was ‘safe’.

“They could have killed us, even after we surrendered, did you even think of that?”

“Of course I did! You think I don’t know how raiders think, for fucks sake Greg, that was me a few months ago! Those guys didn’t want our blood, they just wanted our stuff! Cause trouble, you get hurt. Do what you’re told, you get to go free. Despite what the Minutemen tell you, most raiders ain’t gonna kill you unless you give us a reason, ‘specially guys like those two.”

“What do you mean, like those two?”

“A junkie and a newbie. Junkies can be dangerous but that guy, he was strung out, looked like he’d not had a proper dose in days. Probably felt like shit and would rather be sleeping or tryna pick his own skin off or some shit, not interested in anything but getting a fix. The other guy, he still gave a shit about a junkie and gave me my iron back, so he was either new to this life or soft. Either way, not the type to kill for no reason.”

Greg took a moment to consider what Skeev had said, and obviously decided that he had a point because the anger drained out of him. “We better head back. Hope to God we can make it without running into any more trouble...”

“Yeah.” Skeev agreed, before noticing the way Greg was eying him holding the tire iron. “What, you worried I’m gonna use this on you?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“You wouldn’t be thinking about doing that, would you?” Greg asked. He really had to ask?

“No, man. If I wanted you dead I’d have let you mouth off at those raiders till one of ‘em shot you.” Skeev should have known better than to expect Greg to think of him as anything but a potential threat, and after their interaction with the raiders he was probably thinking Skeev might turn on him and try to run off with them, which was stupid. If he had any plans to run off with a raider gang it wouldn’t be to join up with people like Roy and Jo, who’d probably end up dead within the month.

“Good to know.” Greg nodded, but still didn’t seem convinced. 

“Hey. I’m not going to turn on you, alright? Not unless you make me. I want to get home just as much as you do.” It was the truth, strange as it felt for Skeev to admit it.

“Home, huh? So, you do think of Sanctuary as home now then?”

“It’s where my bed is. And a hot shower. That’s all. Don’t go thinking I’m another dumb settler or anything, cos I ain’t.”

“Right you are.” Greg gave him one last contemplative look, then brushed his trousers off and started to move. “Let’s get back then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken me a while. What was going to be one chapter turned into two. Please let me know what you think of this so far, feedback is really helpful :]


	12. Cash your chips

Luck had been on their side. The floor above them was still full of Gunners, but they managed to take them all down without any injuries on their side. After that, they faced one heavily booby trapped room and another small group of Gunners before the building was quiet and they could get to the upper floor unobstructed. 

Roland, like Deacon, wasn’t incredibly happy about having to kill the courser - but there was no other option. Removing the chip would kill the synth, even if it had been willing to make that sacrifice. The courser, when they finally confronted him, was holding several Gunners hostage, trying to extract information from them. From what Roland had been able to piece together, the Gunners were at Greentech to capture a woman - a woman who turned out to be a synth, that the courser had been sent to retrieve. The woman had seemingly locked herself in a small room, or been locked in there by the Gunners.

Taking the courser down proved as difficult as they’d expected. As soon as he realised that they were here for him, the courser engaged a stealth boy, making getting clear shots on him hard. Between the three of them and a whole lot of spent ammo, the courser finally collapsed, dead. Roland let Deacon extract the chip, since he was a little more familiar with synth anatomy (he complained heartily about the task but did it anyway), while he freed the remaining Gunner hostages who had miraculously not been killed in the crossfire.

“Anyone order a courser chip with a side of brain goop?” Deacon gave a slightly deranged grin as he sprung back up from the coursers body, chip in hand.

“What is it with you and pulling bits of people’s brains out, boss?” MacCready asked as Roland took the chip from Deacon, wiped it off on the coursers coat and pocketed it. 

“I don’t know. But it’s becoming a bit of a theme, isn’t it?” Roland probably should be more disturbed by this than he was, but he’d always had a habit of disassociating after having to kill people. It was encouraged back in the military - stopped men from freezing up totally after the reality of what they’d done hit them.

“Don’t suppose you feel like making a pinky swear not to start poking around in my noggin?” Deacon chimed in.

“Or mine!” MacCready added.

“I pinky swear. Absolutely no brain poking for you guys.” Roland gave a half hearted smile, then turned his attention to the trapped synth woman. At least they could save one synth today.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Greg didn’t speak much more on the way back to Sanctuary, which Skeev was grateful for. They moved quicker than they had on the way out this morning, with not tugging along a brahmin, and were lucky enough not to encounter anything more than a couple of stray feral dogs which ran from them rather than attack.  
The gate guard at Sanctuary didn’t immediately open the gate, shouting down to them instead.  
“Didn’t you guys have a brahmin with you this morning?” 

Greg answered, since he was the ‘leader’ of the scav party. “Yep. Met some raiders out in Lexington. Got back with our lives but not our stuff or the beast.”

The guard pointedly looked at Skeev, fidgeting with his gun. “Raiders? Lexington was supposed to be clear.”

“Well, it wasn’t.” Greg answered, before noting the way the guard looked at Skeev. “We only got home safe thanks to this guy.” He clapped Skeev on the back in a friendly manner. “He saved my hide out there.”

Raising an eyebrow, but not questioning further, the guard opened the gate. “You better let Preston know what happened. He needs to be informed about raiders operating in Minuteman territory.”

Greg said that he’d be sure to do that as he headed through the gate, Skeev following close behind, turning his tire over to the gate guard so as to not be ‘armed’ within Sanctuary. The guard still eyed him suspiciously.

“Hey, Skeev. Let’s go for a drink.”

“...Why?” Skeev would have been as happy to just go ‘home’, avoid the judgemental looks of the guard and the other settlers in favour of a meal cooked by Codsworth (who, as it turned out, wasn’t utterly terrible, since while Roland was away he made looking after Skeev his priority) and a jack off in the shower before bed.

“Celebrate getting home in one piece? Drink away our worries? Whichever, I could really do with a drink.” Greg elaborated.

“I’m not supposed to drink, you know that right? Guard already looked pissed, I don’t wanna push my luck too much in one day...” 

“Ignore that guy. It’ll be fine, I’m vouching for you.”

“...Why? Thought you were mad at me.”

“I was. But you were right - you probably saved our asses and I was ungrateful. I appreciated you looking out for me and sticking with me to get us home, is what I’m saying. Far as I’m concerned that makes you one of us now, wether you’re happy about that or not is your business. But you’re good with me.”

“...Ok. Thanks, I guess.” Skeev wasn’t used to apologies - especially receiving them - but he was having to get used to all sorts of new things since Vaulty exploded into his life. “Are you going to tell Preston about those guys at Lexington?” 

“Sure, but that can wait.” Greg shrugged. “My blood pressure is still coming back down and it needs some alcoholic assistance. Come on, I’m buying.” 

Skeev sighed, getting the feeling that Greg wouldn’t stop nagging him until he agreed, so he gave in. Besides, a free drink was a free drink. “Fine, I’ll have a drink with you. But I’m sticking to beer. Don’t want trouble for drinking anything harder than that.”

“Hard to believe you were really a raider sometimes. Didn’t think raiders knew the meaning of self restraint.”

Skeev bristled slightly, even though he knew Greg meant well. When he’d been with Roach and the gang, he really had tried to be a good raider - or at least tried to act like the belonged with them. What Greg said stung because even though he’d tried, he probably didn’t fit seamlessly into raider life. He’d never gotten quite hard enough, despite the years of crushing down his emotions. His main motivator had always been fear, rather than greed, or aggression or any of the other crueler motives shared by many raiders. “Yeah, well. Some of us still have some brain cells left and would rather them stay inside our skulls.”

Greg gave a slight laugh. “Good for you kid.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Courser chip secured, Roland and the others headed for the Railroad HQ. Deacon had already explained that the only one with any hope of cracking into the information on the device was Tinker Tom, and Roland has no reason to doubt that. 

MacCready and Roland were almost side by side, while Deacon followed a little ways behind. The trip had been mostly silent, until MacCready quietly asked Roland “You had that talk with Skeev before we left right? I’m not going to be having to have a word with him when we get back?”

“Yes, MacCready, I spoke with him.” Roland replied, also keeping his voice down.

“And?”

“Everything is fine. It was...” Roland glanced over to Deacon, not wanting to give to much away. “I panicked over nothing” 

“See, told you not to worry.” Mac smiled slightly. “Still don’t understand what you see in him though...” He added with a shake of his head, before moving ahead a short ways before Roland could reply. 

Tinker Tom was overjoyed to get his hands on the Courser chip. Desdemona and the others were obviously grateful for the opportunities examining the chip presented, but Tom couldn’t stop the flow of words that spilled from him - technical jargon and wild speculations about what information they might be able to pull off of it. Roland couldn’t understand much of it, since his technical knowledge was limited to what the military had taught him and mostly related to weaponry and warfare. 

Tom had hooked the chip up to a strange looking device and was using a terminal to interface with it, muttering mostly to himself as he went through. 

Des didn’t like the idea of someone who wasn’t allied to the Railroad knowing too much about their HQ, but since Fixer and Deacon vouched for him, MacCready was allowed inside. He waited off to the side while Roland, Desdemona and a handful of other railroad agents watched Tinker Tom work on decoding the chip. MacCready held no ill will towards these people, and he wouldn’t willingly sell them out, but he didn’t see the point in what they did. Helping regular humans was pointless most of the time, unless you were getting paid, and helping machine people that didn’t even understand the world they were in seemed even more futile.

“Cap for your thoughts?” Deacon had slid up next to him without him noticing (something Deacon was far too good at doing), giving him a slight smile. His shades were still on, despite the lack of sunlight indoors, underground.

“If you actually wanted to know I’d expect you to pay up.” MacCready replied. He found Deacon a hard man to get along with sometimes; impossible to read, always lying, changing his outfit every five minutes and turning everything into a joke. It wasn’t that he actively disliked him, but being unable to get a read on him was disconcerting enough to put him on edge around the spy.

“You ever heard of something called ‘charity’? I guess not.” Deacon quipped and MacCready grunted something rude under his breath in reply.

“Soooo...you and Roland were having a nice little chat on the way over here. Something to do with his housemate?”

“Why don’t you ask Roland?” MacCready replied, trying to shake him off from that line of questioning.

“Because I’m asking you.” Deacon persisted with a sing-song tone.

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to make sure everything was going alright. He has a raider living in his house, of course I’m going to be keeping an eye on how things are going.”

“Ex-raider, technically.” Deacon corrected, making MacCready scrunch his nose up even more. “From what I hear Skeev is really turning his life around. Makes you wonder how Roland did it, doesn’t it? How he convinced a raider to play nice in a settlement.”

“He saved the guy’s life, Deacon. Even to a ra-...ex-raider, with two brain cells to rub together that’s got to mean something.”

“I’m sure it does. But he is weirdly good at winning people over, isn’t he? The grand General of vaultsuitiness. Maybe the vault suit is magic. Maybe he hypnotises people. Or maybe he just went the good old fashioned ‘sleep with the enemy’ tactic.”

Deacon maybe got a little too close to the truth there, and MacCready wondered if somehow Deacon already knew, but since it wasn’t his secret to reveal he went with his tried and tested ‘be a butthole and deflect’ tactic. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience. That how you convinced Roland to join the Railroad?”

“Moi?” Deacon replied with mock outrage, before chuckling. “Eh, you got me. That’s why our codenames ‘the death bunnies’ you know? Because when we aren’t killing things we’re at it like radrabbits” 

MacCready pulled a face again, mostly to hide how he actually found the joke quite funny. At least, it was probably a joke. “Gross, Deacon.”

Deacon laughed, about to say something else when he was interrupted by a shout from Roland. 

“We got it guys!” 

“Awesome sauce. What now?” Deacon asked as Roland came over to join him and Mac.

“Now I have to go back to the Glowing Sea...” Roland turned the holotape of data he’d gotten from Tom over in his hands. It seemed such a tiny thing to be so very important.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” MacCready groaned.

“Afraid not. Believe me, I don’t like it either. But I need the teleporter plans from Virgil, and that means another trip out there.”

“You partnering up with Valentine again?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I know how to find Virgil now, I could probably get there and back alone with the power armour Sturges modded for me. As long as I don’t come across a pack of Deathclaws or a whole hoard of angry Radscorpians I should be able to handle it.”

“That’s a negatory, Fixerroony.” Deacon shook his head, sounding less jolly than his choice of words would imply. “Dez would skin me alive if I let our best hope of Institute infiltration wander alone into the Glowing Sea. Besides, I used to run a day spa for ghouls out there. I’ll back you up this time.”

“Deacon, much as I appreciate the offer, I only have one modded suit and you...well, you’re not so rad resistant as our friend Nick.” 

“Ah, what? Don’t think a few rads are going to take me down, do you? Oh, don’t give me that face. I happen to have a very nice hazmat suit, very figure flattering. That will handle the radiation. As for the beasties, well, I’ll have my very own knight in shining power armour to distract them.”

Roland was quiet for a moment, considering what Deacon had said. He didn’t like putting other people in harms way (Valentine included), but he couldn’t deny that another set of eyes and another gun by his side would be a good idea. 

“Alright. See if Carrington can spare some Rad-x and Radaway, I want to take extra just in case.”

Deacon nodded and did a silly finger guns gesture before heading over to sweet talk meds from Carrington. 

Roland turned to MacCready, who’d been noticeably quiet. “You coming back to Sanctuary with us Mac?”

“Sure. I’m sure Preston will have some shack out in the wastes full of rabid dogs that he wants to turn into a settlement, I can make some caps while you go on your glowing sea date with shades.” MacCready teased, trying to deflect from the fact that he was worried about Roland (and even for Deacon, a little) heading out into the irradiated hellscape again.

“Alright. Just don’t get eaten by anything while we’re gone.” Roland replied, in an attempt to return the joke. Considering that where he and Deacon would be headed, humans were little more than mutant critter snacks, it probably wasn’t the best joke to make.


	13. Outsider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skeev finds that despite his best efforts, the settlers of Sanctuary still view him as a potentially dangerous outsider.

There weren’t many people at the bar, much to Skeev’s relief. Greg ordered himself a whiskey and a Gwinnett for Skeev, and they sat on a couple of stools at the bar. The barman knew Greg, so put the drinks on a tab for him to pay later after he explained why he had no caps on him. Greg was far more interested in talking than Skeev was, but Greg didn’t seem to mind, chatting with the barkeep who was more than happy to keep the guy talking while he served him a couple more drinks. Skeev stuck to the one, even though he was offered another.

Both Greg and the barman were annoyingly interested in the fact that Skeev lived ‘with’ the general, pressing him repeatedly to tell them what it was like - if the General was different ‘outside of work’.

“I hardly even see the guy, ain’t like he spends a whole lotta time here.” Skeev said dismissively, hoping they would leave the subject alone.

“Yeah, but when he is here, what’s he like? I heard that Mr.Handy of his keeps the house looking like it did back in the day on the inside.” The barman asked, not letting the subject drop.

“Look, I don’t see much of him even when he’s in town, ok? He’s got better things to do than hang around with me.” It wasn’t entirely a lie - Skeev really hadn’t spent that much time with the man who’s home he shared. Granted they were more ‘acquainted’ than he was letting on, but that wasn’t any of these guys business. 

“How come you’re still living there anyway? Continued the barman, leaning over the bar with an intense stare that was making Skeev increasingly uncomfortable.

“Dunno. Why don’t you ask your General all this shit. I got no answers for you.” Skeev made no attempt to hide his unhappiness with this topic and finally, it seemed to sink in to the barman’s thick skull that he wasn’t going to say anything else about it. He stood upright again and moved away from the bar, turning his attention to the few other patrons.

“You don’t have to be snappy with folks you know. We might just be dumb settlers to you, but we still have feelings. If you want to fit in you’ll have to figure that out sooner or later.” Greg told him, calm but with the firmness of tone usually used to scold a child. 

Skeev grunted and stood from his stool. He’d had enough socialisation for one night. “Whatever. Thanks for the beer.”

Greg sighed, resigned, and turned back to his whiskey. 

When Skeev got back to Roland’s place, he was greeted by Preston Garvey, standing in the front room talking to Codsworth.

Upon seeing him, Preston nodded an acknowledgement and Codsworth glided over towards him.

“Ah, Sir! Good to see you, Mr. Garvey was just telling me that you and Mr Greg we’re robbed today! Simply terrible.” 

Before Skeev could reply, Preston spoke up. “That’s actually why I’m here. The gate guard told me the two of you came back without your stuff or your brahmin. I wanted to speak to you both and find out exactly what happened.”

“So why didn’t you come to the bar? We’ve both been sat there for a half hour.” Skeev questioned, folding his arms across his chest defensively. The guard likely told Garvey that Skeev probably had something to do with the attack.

“The bar isn’t exactly the best place to talk. And I figured it would be better to speak to you each individually, so both of you can give your perspective.”

Figured. Preston was suspicious that Skeev had organised this somehow and was hoping to catch him out by getting a different story out of him than the one he’d get from Greg. Skeev, for once, was innocent of any wrongdoing but it was always more difficult to prove something wasn’t your fault than that it was your fault. 

“What do you want me to say, Minuteman? We got jumped by raiders. Leftovers from the gang at Corvega that supposedly your lot already killed. We lost our gear but kept our lives, which far as I’m concerned’s a good outcome. Not really anything else to it.”

“How did you get away?” Garvey pressed.

“They let us go. They got what they wanted, so we weren’t any use to ‘em anymore.”

Preston’s brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed slightly. “You sure that’s the whole story?”

“Yeah.” Skeev scowled, resisting the urge to spit in Garvey’s general direction to emphasise his distant. 

Garvey still looked unconvinced, but Skeev knew there was little he could say that would convince the guy of his innocence. Preston had made it clear from the start that he didn’t trust Skeev. Even though Greg was maybe coming round, the only one who really seemed to have any faith at all in him was Roland, and he was hardly ever around. Everyone else here still thought of him as the enemy, even if they didn’t outright say it to his face.

“Well, it’s good you both got back safe, anyway. I’ll send a party out to deal with the remaining raiders in Lexington so that this doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

“Why bother? The guys that hit us probably won’t last a month out there anyway. They’ll die anyway so why put your men at risk just to do them in a bit quicker?” 

“I’m not willing to risk them hurting innocent people. Even if they don’t survive more than a month, they could do a lot of harm in that time. The whole point of the Minutemen is to stop things like that from happening.” Garvey’s face was devoid of the warmth it normally exuded when he was talking to other settlers, instead firm and almost grim.

Skeev didn’t want to continue this conversation any further, and his patience was wearing thin. Starting a fight wasn’t going to do him any good but he was conditioned to get aggressive if people insisted on pushing him. “Fine. We done here?” Even though he was trying to stay ‘polite’ his words came out as almost a growl.

Preston bristled but kept him composure. “Yes. We’re done. Thanks for your time.”

Only giving a grunt in response, Skeev stood to the side to let Preston pass and walk out of the door. “Goodbye Codsworth.” Garvey said as he left, tipping his hat to the robot, who returned the goodbye. Clearly the guy had the same delusions as Roland about Codsworth being anything more than a machine.

Preston’s visit had made Skeev’s mood even worse than it had been, and he’d had a damn shitty day as it was. He sat down at the kitchen table with a sigh. “Yo, robot, any chance of something to eat? I could eat a brahmin.”

“I’m sure I can cook something up for you.” It was probably Skeev’s imagination, but he felt sure the robot sounded annoyed with him. Fucking bot. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________

When Preston met them at the gate, he didn’t give his usual cheerful greeting, making Roland instantly concerned. There wasn’t any obvious signs of damage to the settlement, but that didn’t necessarily mean there hadn’t been an attack on it.

“Preston. Everything alright?” Roland asked, mentally preparing himself for the worst.

“General. It’s nothing major, but one of our scavenger groups was attacked and robbed by raiders in Lexington yesterday - survivors from the gang at Corvega, we think.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“Thankfully, no. We lost a brahmin and everything from the days scavving run. Thing is, it was Greg and Skeev who got hit.” It was clear from Preston’s tone of voice that he was worried how Roland was going to respond to the news.

“But, they’re both ok?” Roland asked, Preston nodding in conformation. “Good. Was there anything else?”

Garvey still seemed a little on edge but shook his head. “No sir. Just thought I should be the one to tell you what happened. Greg’s taking the day off today - he’s pretty shaken up, so I’d imagine Skeev is at your home since he doesn’t have his scav partner to go out with. I’ve already spoken with both him and Greg myself and their stories line up, but Skeev wasn’t exactly cooperative. I’m not sure what sort of mood he’ll be in, but he certainly didn’t seem happy when I spoke to him.”

“Alright. Thanks for letting me know.” Roland gave Preston a nod of acknowledgment and the man went on his way. 

“Hey boss, I’m going to go ask Garvey about work while you’re in the Glowing Sea.” MacCready said, waiting for Roland to give his ok before going off after the Minuteman.

Deacon took one look at the expression on Roland’s face and sighed. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to tell me that now isn’t the right time for me to meet your new friend either?

“You’ll meet him, Deacon. But if he’s not doing so great it’s probably not the best idea to confront him with Both of the men who took down his gang, right? You understand don’t you?” Roland tried not to sound like he was talking down to Deacon - he didn’t really have a problem with the thought of him meeting Skeev, he just wanted their first ‘proper’ introduction to go better than Skeev’s and MacCready’s.

“I suppose you have a point. Going to have to meet him one day soon though or I’m going to start thinking you just made him up to make me jealous.” Deacon joked. Roland suspected there was a real accusation in that joke somewhere, but he tried not to read too much into it.

“Of course. You go get geared up, I’m going to speak to Skeev before we head out.” 

“Yessir!” Deacon saluted, before heading off towards the armoury.

Now alone once again, Roland made his way home. Codsworth wasn’t in - probably pulled away to help with some job in the settlement that required heavy lifting. Skeev was in his tiny room, flicking through the pages of a gun magazine that he couldn’t read.

“Are you ok? I heard about what happened to you and Greg in Lexington” Roland said, wanting to get right to the point.

“I’m fine. It was nothin.” Skeev mumbled, not looking up.

“Preston’s going to try get some men together to sweep the area and deal with the stragglers from Corvega, so it won’t happen again.” Roland hoped that might make Skeev feel better, but still he didn’t turn his attention away from the magazine.

“I told Preston, it ain’t worth bothering with. Just tell your people to avoid that area. Let the ferals deal with those guys.”

“I can’t do that, Skeev. Making the Commonwealth safe again is a pretty big part of my job description as General.” Roland let himself into the room, but didn’t get too close to the bed so as not to intrude into Skeev’s personal space.

“Whatever. Not like anyone cares about killing a few more raiders, right?” 

“Skeev, that’s not what I meant. I...” Roland sighed. “I’ll tell Preston I’ll look into it myself and to send out the message to avoid Lexington for the time being until I can deal with it, alright?”

“...Ok.” 

Roland couldn’t help but note Skeev’s sour expression, the way he held himself indicating more tension than usual in his shoulders, attention clearly not really on the magazine he was flicking though.

“Are you sure you’re ok? It must have been hard for you, being on the other side of a raider attack. Do you feel sympathy for those men, is that why you don’t want them killed?”

Skeev sighed. “Look, Vaulty, I get that you’re big on talking but I’d really rather not, ok? What happened, happened, nobody got hurt, just let it go and move on, I have. I don’t get why everyone’s making such a big deal out of it.” 

As seemed to be his way, Skeev was dodging the question, attempting to avoid talking about his feelings, no doubt. Other than Deacon, who deflected from his real feelings with humour, Skeev was the most emotionally closed off person Roland had probably ever met. In a way it made sense that he would be - Roland doubted raiders spent much time sitting around the campfire talking about their feelings - but it was frustrating that he still felt he couldn’t be open about them.

Taking a calculated risk that Skeev would be ok with it, Roland moved closer and sat himself on the bottom of his small bed. Skeev looked up from the magazine to regard him with a cold stare but didn’t protest. “I get that you don’t want to talk about it, and that’s fine, just promise me that you really are ok.”

Skeev groaned and tossed the magazine aside. “Fine. Maybe I’m more pissed than ok. But it’s not because some idiots lucky enough to dodge your Corvega massacre robbed me. It’s...” He gestured vaguely to the surrounding area with his hands. “...this. This settlement, these people. I got attacked and even though I’ve been doing everything just like I’m told to, behaving like a good dog, they treat me like it’s my fault we got hit. Like somehow I arranged it. Which is bullshit, before you ask, I didn’t even know anyone in Jared’s gang let alone those two dipshits. Apparently Greg don’t feel up to going out today because’s he’s shaken up, but he’s probably just scared of going out with me again. I can’t do anything here without people looking at me like I’m shit on their shoe.”

Roland felt what Skeev said like a weight on his chest. He’d thought things were going well, that Skeev was starting to settle in here. The worst thing was he didn’t know what he could do to make this situation easier for Skeev - he was already doing everything he could think of, but he so desperately wanted this to work. He needed to know that this world, the people in it - that he himself - wasn’t too far gone to be helped. It was wrong to put so much pressure on one former raider and Roland was well aware of that, but Skeev was an almost perfect representative of everything that was broken in the Commonwealth.

“Do you want to leave?” Roland asked quietly, afraid of what the answer would be.

Skeev quickly sat upright, cold expression changing to one that looked more like worry. “Are you kicking me out?”

“No. I’m giving you the choice I’ve denied you up until now. If you want to leave, you can. I won’t stop you and I’ll make sure no one else tries to either. What you do then is up to you. I can’t keep you prisoner here anymore.” Roland looked up to make eye contact with Skeev, wanting to see if he could read in the man’s eyes the true emotions that he kept buried.

Skeev was silent for a good few second, eyes meeting Roland’s and searching them just as intensely. “Why? Why are you suddenly ok with letting me go?”

“Because I want you to have the chance to be happy, and you aren’t happy here. I thought Sanctuary would be the best place for you, somewhere you could be happy, where you could build a new life, but...well it’s not working for you, and I don’t know what else I can do that might make you happy other than give you your freedom back.”

“You’d really just let me leave? Even if I said I’d find another gang of raiders to join up with once I got outta here?”

“That’s...I...” Roland looked away, back at the floor, his shoulders visibly sagging. “If that’s what would make you happy, then yes. I’d still let you leave. It’s not what I wanted for you. It would mean...that I could never be anything but your enemy.”

“And you’d kill me if you ran into me again?”

“If you were raiding again, then yes. But...I really don’t want to have to do that Skeev.” Roland could feel tears threatening to well up and he took a deep breath to hold them back, before closing his eyes. If Skeev left, he’d never be able to kill a raider again without wondering if he was about to kill the man he’d tired to so hard to save, the man he’d (all be it briefly) shared a home with, shared intimacy with. He’d probably end up checking the bodies of dead raiders he came across to make sure it wasn’t Skeev. What would he do, if he found him lying dead in the wastes? If while looting the bodies of raiders he’d killed he removed a gas mask to find those lovely eyes staring back at him, lifeless. Roland’s chest tightened and his guts churned uncomfortably, making him feel sick. The thought of it alone was almost enough to break him, if it actually happened...

Roland almost jumped when he felt a hand gently grasp his shoulder. “I don’t wanna leave, Vaulty. I’m not an idiot, being on the wrong side of you once was enough. I just wish people would stop treating me like I’m some sort of wild animal. I know I ain’t like them, but I’m not tryin’ to cause trouble or anything. I just wanna live, that’s all.”

“So you don’t want to go back to being a raider?” Roland asked, looking up. He was still holding in tears, his eyes watery when he opened them. Skeev had moved to sit beside him, hand resting on his shoulder for a moment more before pulling away.

“Nah. Had some perks, but most of the time, it was shit. Just never knew how to be anything else, I guess.” Skeev cleared his throat, shifting a little. “Hey, you know that deal we had? About relieving stress? I could use that right about now, if you’d be up for it?”

The shift in topic was so sudden and unexpected for Roland that he let out a short sharp laugh. “Really?” Skeev looked offended, so Roland quickly spoke to explain himself. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, promise. I just wasn’t expecting that, is all. I suppose I could do with some...stress relief. I haven’t showered yet though and it’s been a day, let me sort that first, yeah?” He realised after he’d already agreed to the idea that he hadn’t even considered saying no to the offer. 

“Sure.” Skeev replied, looking happier now that he’d realised Roland wasn’t trying to make fun of him.

Roland got up off the bed, going for the door before an idea occurred to him. “You could join me, if you wanted?”

Skeev tilted his head, thinking the idea over. “I guess I could be persuaded to...” He smiled slyly.


End file.
